Until Again
by RynStar15
Summary: A life of stolen moments and silent promises in a world where they could never be.
1. Chapter I

A/N:

Tags: Abuse Angst COMPLETE Death Fingering H/C HJ MC M/F MiCD Oral Preg Tort Violence WIP

This story is interwoven between book canon. If you are not familiar with the books you may find yourself a little confused at times, because it is completely based off Hermione's perspective of the events. Lots of dark angst and delicious Dramione sex ensue!

You can find more of my stories on Adult-FanFiction under the same name. You must be 18 to enter the site and as such, any of my writings are ADULT themed. If you prefer to contact me privately or would just prefer to have a longer discourse about anything, you can email me directly at yourcookiedoughbaby at yahoo or PM me here.

This story is finished and will be updating every few days when I have time. I do my own beta-ing so PLEASE let me know if you catch anything that needs my attention. I am only human, after all.

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Nearly every day it was something new. She'd catch him looking at her across the hall during dinner. He would brush shoulders with her in the corridor when there was plenty of room to go around. He'd follow her into the store cupboard during Potion's class when she needed more ingredients. He never said a word, but the occurrences happened more and more throughout the years. She never told anyone about it.

It wasn't until fourth year that she noticed things change. Walking into the Great Hall on Viktor's arm she'd caught eyes with him, watched his go wide, his mouth drop slightly. That was the first time she'd ever responded. She had smiled back, watched his jaw clench. Worried she'd done something wrong.

She tried to ignore it. In front of people and to her face he was the same cruel, arrogant boy. The snide remarks were fewer and further between, but those smoldering looks frequented.

It wasn't long before those eyes invaded her dreams, her spare moments. Wasn't much longer before she was sneaking her own looks, hoping to catch him in the act. She grew more worried that someone would notice the smile she gave him, the smirk he returned with. Someone had to notice that they bumped into each other far too often in the halls, that they sat in far too close proximity in the library.

When she realized on the first day of their fifth year that he was a prefect as well her heart fluttered. He'd caught her eye in the prefect car on the Hogwarts Express and winked at her. She'd felt her knees go weak. The growls emanating from Ron kept her focused, however, on the very real fact that he was everything she hated.

She was nervous the first night they shared patrol together, but nothing happened. She hadn't even run into him. Doubted he'd even shown up. The second time she wished vaguely that she would catch a glimpse of him. But there was nothing. By the third mutual patrol she realized how much she wished he would make some kind of move, something that would explain this irrational behavior. The looks and brushes had become a little more than a little unnerving and she was finding it hard to remember who it was she was dealing with.

It was mid-December the first time it happened. She walked the corridors, wand in hand, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders, watching her breath mist before her. Arms surrounded her and her heart jumped into her throat, a muffled scream falling to the gloved hand clapped over her mouth. Before she even had time to raise her wand she was shoved against the wall, the hand being replaced by a pair of lips. Horrified, she shoved against her assailant hard enough so that he took a step back into the moonlight streaming from a high window, her wand at his chest. He looked down at her, his eyes dark as the night around them, his gaze one of pure desire. She kept her wand raised until his hand came forward and lowered it. Softer this time, he stepped forward, pressing her into the wall, his entire body enfolding her. When his lips met hers again she was ready, her face tilted up to meet his.

She knew she would later dream of the feel of him, warm and hard, his lips eager. His fingers dug into her, clenching her neck and arm so tight it was almost painful, but erotic in the most primal way, evidence to all he held back.

When he pulled away they were both panting, their breath fusing in the frosty air. Their eyes held for a long moment, the tension palpable.

And then he was gone as if he had never been, the only evidence of his presence the heat from where he'd touched her. She stood there for a long time, her fingers pressed against her lips before leaving the occurrence to fade away into the night.

The next day he had avoided her at all cost, not meeting her gaze when she snuck one across the hall, not searching her out in the corridors or even the library after dinner. And then it was Christmas break and he was gone and she was whisked to Headquarters to be with everyone after Arthur was attacked. Seeing the distress upon his family and friend's faces and feeling the tight fear of possibly losing the only father figure who understood her, she was reminded harshly of her betrayal. She was set, therefore, by the time they returned to Hogwarts that she would ignore him completely until he got the point that she wanted nothing to do with him or his kind. Her loyalty was to Harry and the Order and she would not waver.

And so the weeks passed under the tyranny of Umbridge and she continued to assist Harry in DA lessons and ignored Draco's every advance. Well, she would have if there were any.

It wasn't until spring began to blossom that she started to feel his eyes on her again, noticed his immediate propinquity in the halls, his lingering presence in the library. She told herself it was only because he was a part of the Inquisitorial Squad, nothing else. He suspected she was up to something. And why shouldn't he? Several DA members were reporting being followed. She knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught.

She was more observant during patrol in case he decided to repeat their previous encounter. But he was nowhere to be seen.

As the end of the year approached she was immersed in O.W.L practice tests, the library dimmed except for her table. Madam Pince allowed her to stay after hours as long as she closed up after herself. Rubbing her tired eyes she pushed herself to her feet and dragged several tomes back to their places on the shelf, knowing she wouldn't get anything more done tonight. She never heard a sound before she was shoved face-first against a shelf, the book in her hands smashing her fingers against the wood. She shrieked before her mouth was covered and she cursed herself for leaving her wand in her bag next to her chair. She struggled but her captor was much too strong. She whimpered as she recognized his scent, that cologne which seemed to permeate her robes after a simple brush in the hall. His hard body pressed her into the shelving, his hot breath on her neck. She felt a thrill of fear, but also of something completely foreign when his lips found the crease of her neck and shoulder, his teeth gently nipping. Determined not to let him know how much this simple act affected her she bit her lip until it hurt, trying to dislodge him. The book slipped from her fingers to _thunk_ onto the floor as his hands found her hips, rounding to span across her tiny waist, pulling her back so that she could feel his erection against her bum. Every touch was like fire spreading throughout her body and she was finding it harder to remember that she was supposed to be fighting him off.

 _He's the enemy, he hates you,_ she thought, attempting to pull away again. But he only held stronger, his hands rising to cup her breasts and she gasped in outrage, shoving at him but he only squeezed harder, his lips rising to her ear sending shivers down her spine.

Sounds of distress spilled from her as his hands snaked their way under her sweater before she could stop them. They were on her bare breasts, massaging and thumbing her nipples and she hated the sharp shocks of pleasure that drove straight to her core from it.

The sound of glass breaking had him tearing away from her, running for the door. She sank like a puddle to the floor and for once was thankful for Mrs. Norris as she wound her way around the legs of a table, the shattered lamp strewn across the floor.

He found her again a week later as she exited Potions several minutes after the rest of the class, having stayed behind to question Snape about the assigned essay. She gasped as an arm shot out to drag her into a dark alcove, sparing no time in capturing her lips, his hands on either side of her face, holding her still as his lips worked hers, dragging an unwanted moan from her. She didn't even think as her hands flew to his shoulders and he squeezed between her slightly parted legs to press against her core eliciting a harsh groan from her. He grabbed her thighs and drew her up, undulating his hips against hers, sending white hot waves of need shooting through her. She couldn't even comprehend the consequences of her actions, her entire being engulfed in his actions, in her desire.

She couldn't seem to draw in enough air as his hand kneaded her bum, his fingers brushing over her panties which suddenly felt wet. She tried to pull away, embarrassed, but he only shoved his fingers beneath the fabric and straight into her, causing her to cry out in surprise and, horribly, pleasure. His other hand shot up to cover her mouth, his eyes wide, and she was forced to cling to him so as not to sink to the floor. He pressed closer to help keep her aloft, and the two of them just stared at each other, listening for signs that she had been heard.

Staring into his steely grey eyes she was suddenly all too aware of the situation she had somehow found herself in and shoved against him in horror and disgust, her legs dropping to the floor, but he rammed her back against the wall and his fingers pumped harshly into her until she was keening, the sensations unlike anything she'd ever imagined. Her knees buckled and she was forced to grab his hard shoulders to stay upright as his lips found hers once more with bruising force.

She couldn't stop the rocking of her hips against him as the pleasure built up inside her until she felt like a dam ready to burst. She whimpered as liquid heat cascaded through her over and over, her entire body feeling like a wound cord. She felt like she was scrambling for something just out of reach…

"Don't fight it," he growled into her ear, the baritone of his voice flooding through her, more erotic than she'd ever realized. Abruptly he hooked his fingers and that dam exploded, her entire body arching like a bow, her mouth open in a scream that was drowned in ecstasy.

He was gone before she came down from her high.

She spent the next few days in retched turmoil. What she'd experienced had been so incredible, so invigorating, and yet at the same time she felt like a traitor. How could she carry on with him when she was working so hard _against_ him? And why was he doing this in the first place? Was it some sort of sick, twisted power trip for him to make her fall apart? Didn't he hate her as much as she hated him? It certainly seemed so when they weren't alone. And did she care? She could just as easily turn this on him, make _him_ need _her,_ make _him_ think about _her_ all the bleeding time; force _him_ to wonder if he was doing the right thing. Because she knew it was wrong of her to continue this. And some part of her loved it simply for that reason.

She wasn't hurting anything, not really. No one knew, no one suspected. She was the good girl. They would never imagine that their little bookworm angel was keeping a dark, dirty secret. And it wasn't as if she was turning to his side; she was still helping Harry, still dedicated in bringing down You-Know-Who. So what if she was eliciting in immoral activities with someone? She was free to do whatever she liked with whomever she liked. Besides, there was no proof that he was actually _with_ the other side; he was simply a snobbish prick. There was nothing wrong, therefore, for her to continue seeing him. In secret.

And so, for the first time, she sought him out. It was nearly two weeks later when she finally gained the courage and she told the boys she was running to the library before it closed for a book she already had tucked in her trunk upstairs. She knew he was patrolling the third floor and waited for him in an empty classroom, the door cracked the slightest amount so she could see out of it. She listened for his footsteps, her heart banging in her throat, and when she finally saw his silver-blonde head she stuck her wand out of the crack and quickly disarmed him, pushing the door open to catch his wand. His head snapped to her, fury radiating from every hard muscle. She smiled and waved his wand in front of her, stepping back into the dark of the classroom, taunting him. He smirked and followed her inside, snapping the door shut, throwing them into pitch black. His hands were on her in a heartbeat, his lips taking hers with vigor, shoving her backwards until the back of her legs slammed against a desk. He lifted her onto it and her hands scrambled eagerly under his sweater to feel him, his soft skin, his hard muscles. His own hands were tearing at her clothes, fingers pinching her nipples, gripping her thigh, dragging her even harder against him. One hand snaked between them to cup her mound, stroking her and causing her to gasp in pleasure. She grabbed his head so tightly she knew it must hurt but he only growled and bit her bottom lip, hard. She whimpered as heat flooded through her and she ached to feel that incredible bliss he had given her before. Rubbing against his hand she tried to convey her need, heard the rumble of his chuckle.

"You want me to make you come again, don't you?" he murmured. She nodded, lifting her hips higher against him, kissing his neck, tasting the salt of his skin as his skimmed her underwear down her legs. His other hand groped her breast, massaging it before rising to cup the front of her throat, squeezing firmly, not quite hard enough to cut off her air supply but enough to get her attention. "Ask me nicely."

"What?" she asked and his grip tightened while the fingers of his other hand continued to explore her sopping core.

"Ask me nicely," he repeated, his digits poised just in front of her entrance.

"P-please," she ventured.

"Again."

"Please," she moaned, rotating her hips, seeking his touch. She felt his teeth on her throat and sucked in a shaky breath, jerking when he thrust his fingers roughly into her. He worked her hard and fast, her head falling back, her nails digging into anything they could find. Her mind went blank but for the hot waves of pleasure scoring through her. She couldn't catch a full breath, his free hand was everywhere, taking in all of her while his mouth kept her reeling as it sought out ever more sensitive areas of her body she'd never even known existed.

"You like it when I touch you like this, don't you?" he growled. She nodded against his shoulder. "Do you feel dirty fucking around with me?" Again, she nodded, kissing up his neck, searching for his mouth. "Knew you liked being dirty. Acting so innocent all the time. But I know better."

She screamed as he bit down hard on the apex of her shoulder and neck and the orgasm ripped through her, leaving her breathless in its wake. He laid her back against the desk and took her mouth ferociously. Grabbing her hand he thrust it to the front of his pants where his erection strained against the material. She fingered it nervously, unsure of what to do. She was still debating when a crash sounded down the hall. He cursed harshly, pulling away from her.

"You owe me," he snapped, readjusting himself while snatching his wand from the desk beside her. Easing the door open he looked both ways before slipping out, stealing one last smirk back at her.

The end of term was nearing and she was immersed in her upcoming exams and the fact that Harry was having more and more dreams. She worried he wasn't keeping up with his Occlumency on purpose.

She caught his eye in the halls and he would smirk, letting her know he hadn't forgotten about her keeping up on her end of the deal. Her stomach fluttered with nerves and excitement at the very thought, but the fight against Umbridge had mounted to an all-out war and she could hardly spare time to study let alone plan a secret rendezvous.

It was stifling in the Great Hall where the fifth years were packed in, a large hourglass ticking away the time while she scribbled hastily on her History of Magic exam. She looked up with the others at the commotion and leapt to her feet when she saw Harry on the ground, writhing in pain, clutching his scar.

"Remain seated, please!" the wrinkled wizard observing their testing called out as everyone was now leaning over their desks to see what was going on. "If I see one single person out of their chair you will receive an automatic 'T'!"

She retook her seat but watched him lean over Harry anxiously, glancing at Ron who likewise looked worried. She heard Harry announce that he was fine but wished to be excused. He caught her eye upon exiting and she had trouble concentrating on the rest of the exam, simply wishing it to be over so she could check on him.

She had reservations about the dream he'd had, sure it was Voldemort luring him into a trap. But she agreed to watch his back while he checked everything out at Headquarters. Wand at the ready, she was still caught unprepared when the door banged open and she was thrown against the wall, the back of her head smacking against stone so that stars burst in front of her eyes. Pushing herself to a sitting position she tried to call out to Harry to warn him but her mouth was covered by a beefy hand and she was dragged to her feet, struggling as she watched Umbridge yank Harry's head out of the fire by his hair. She could hear the two of them fighting but as she was shoved roughly against the wall she caught two grey eyes across the room and her heart stopped.

"-you foolish boy. Take his wand," she heard Umbridge say and watched him rip Harry's wand from his limp hand, his body bowed back excruciatingly low. "Hers too."

She tried to fight Millicent off but it was no use, the girl was much larger than she and her wand was wrested from her easily. She looked back up at him where he was leaning against the window sill, twirling Harry's wand in the air, smirking.

She didn't allow herself to think about the sting of his betrayal until much later as she lay in the hospital wing in more pain than she'd ever felt in her life. She'd been too busy fighting for their lives to really let it sink in. She could still see him silhouetted against the setting sun, could see the triumph gleaming in his eyes. How could he do this to her? She had thought they'd had…something. Certainly there was _something_. Why else would he have singled her out like this? She wasn't naive enough to think she was his only… _encounter_ , and certainly not anything more than that…but had it meant nothing? All of their sneaking around, stolen glances…was it just a game for him?

One thing was for certain: she was never going to see him again. She had learned her lesson, a hard one, but she had learned. She would not be fooled again. Men like him only wanted one thing. He'd probably had a real laugh about it with his Slytherin mates and her face burned with humiliation, tears of pain, physical and emotional, drenching her pillow. She looked at Ron snoring quietly on the bed next to her, the bandages hiding the deep welts she'd seen earlier that day when she'd first come around, disoriented and scared. But he had calmed her, explained what had happened, even sat next to her and patted her hand awkwardly when her eyes welled up with the news of Sirius. He had been full of concern for her, telling her how they'd all thought she was done for. Her heart had squeezed at his words and she knew. He was the man she should be thinking about. Who cared about _him_ when she had someone as sweet and wonderful as Ron who obviously cared for _her?_ He wasn't half the man Ron was and she was stupid to waste her tears on him.

She sucked in a painful breath as she rolled onto her back and nearly screamed when she saw a dark figure looming over her. She watched as he put a finger to his lips and anger boiled inside her.

" _You!"_ she hissed. "How dare you-"

"I had to see you."

"Get out of here," she growled, shaking with rage at his audacity. "You have no right-"

"I know. But there are things you don't understand-"

"You're right. I don't understand how you are still here. _Get away from me."_

"I will. You just have to answer one thing for me."

"I don't have to answer anything, especially for you. If you don't leave this second I will call Madam Pomfrey-"

"And I will just come right back. All you have to do is answer one question for me, honestly, and you will never see me again outside of the classroom."

She contemplated his proposal. What could it hurt? With a quick glance to ensure Ron was still sleeping soundly, she ground her teeth.

"I answer this question and you will leave me and my friends alone?"

"Answer it honestly and I will never seek you out, never contact you, never look your way again."

Good enough for her. "Fine. What is it?"

"You felt something when you kissed me, didn't you?"

Ron snorted and shifted just then but he never took his eyes off her. She stared up into his shadowy face and steeled herself. He had sold her and her friends out, nearly gotten them all killed. Ron, despite all his faults, would never do that. He had stood by Harry, never complained when he was shunned aside even though she could see the pain in his eyes. He was loyal, caring, brave. Everything this vile snake wasn't.

"No," she lied, watching his eyes flame. "Now leave."

He stood there a moment longer, his face hard, before turning on his expensive heel and striding out of the infirmary.

The day she left the hospital wing she was walking up to Gryffindor Tower alone, the halls eerily quiet as the students took advantage of the sunny grounds. Her heart sat heavy in her chest with the knowledge that everything had changed, irrevocably. The world knew Voldemort was back and the war was on. Nothing would be as it was. Their young lives were about to get a rough shove into maturity.

She strolled to her bed, her brow furrowed when she saw a folded piece of parchment lying on her pillow. Looking around to ensure everything else was untouched she picked it up and opened it, her heart clenching.

 _Should have been honest._

XXXXXXXX

XOXO

RynStar15


	2. Chapter II

The summer began uneventfully. She smiled at her parents more than ever, engaged them in conversation, soaking in every moment, every word, committing all of these days to her memory so during the challenging year ahead she could remember what the struggle was for. It was for people just like her parents whose only fault in the eyes of the Dark Lord was their lack of magical ability. She understood he might loath and despise Muggle-borns even more, but at least she had a chance to defend herself. Her parents didn't.

She could tell they knew something was happening and though they would never ask her outright, they dropped hints, hoping she would tell them what was going on. For the first time in her life, she lied to her parents.

Ron had already offered for her to come stay with them, telling her Harry would join them soon as well. She'd kept correspondents with her best friends as much as she could without seeming a nuisance. They put up with her simply to please her, she knew, and she was thankful. She also took the _Daily_ and _Evening Prophet_ to catch what might be happening in the wizarding world, watched the Muggle news, saw the world falling to pieces as Muggles were slaughtered, buildings were toppled, bridges collapsed. She felt the chill of the Dementors, felt the sorrow of the confused and terrified Muggles, felt the terror from the familiar faces of escaped convicts.

She sat waiting one hot night by her bedroom window, Hogwarts, A History open in her lap, the words blurring together as she strained to hear the voice of the newscaster downstairs. A family of four mysteriously missing, any leads were to please call the number on the screen…

She saw the owl crest over the roofs of her neighbors and moved aside so it would have room to soar through the open window and land softly on her bed. Her brow wrinkled as she saw a letter clutched in its talons rather than the paper she had been waiting for. She'd only wrote the boys this morning, there was no way they would have sent her a response…

Her heart caught as she ran her finger over the extravagant embossed 'M' on the seal. No…it couldn't be…

With shaky hands she ripped the letter open even as she recognized the sleek eagle owl from school, forever bringing him packages of sweets which he opened in front of everyone, boasting. Something dropped from the letter and floated to the floor. She picked up the feather, wondering if the owl had simply shed it on accident and was in the process of tossing it in her bin when she read the few short words:

 _The feather is a Portkey. It will leave at midnight._

With a sound of disgust she crumpled the short, arrogant missive and threw it and the feather into the bin. If he thought she would meet him he was dafter than she'd thought. The presumptuous prick! As if she had nothing better to do than allow him to whisk her to some unknown place where there could be any kind of ambush. Knowing him it would probably send her right off a cliff. Could he really think her so thick?

She watched the clock on her nightstand, her stomach in knots, forcing herself to stay in bed as the seconds ticked closer to midnight. What if he needed to talk to her? Could he have a reason for his actions last month that she didn't understand?

But she watched the room glow bright blue as the hand on her clock struck twelve. She allowed herself to let go of the breath she held.

The next night was the same. A feather and a time.

Then the next night.

And the next.

Every night it was harder than the last to let the feather disappear, first in the bin and finally under her bookshelf to quell her temptation. More than once she retrieved it and only replaced it just in time for it to leave without her.

A week after the first feather had arrived, she left for the Weasley's. Ron gave her an awkward hug, his ears bright red and butterflies stirred in her stomach. All day he was stuttering and nervous and she couldn't help but smile. Could he _be_ anymore adorable?

That evening she rummaged through her trunk in Ginny's room for her toothbrush and a wave of horror ran through her as an owl hit the barrier and Mrs. Weasley ran out into the back garden to retrieve it. Sprinting through the house she met Mrs. Weasley at the back door, anxious to get her hand on the note.

"Oh, there you are dear! This came for you-"

She ripped it out of the older woman's hands and ran back upstairs before anyone could ask her about it. Barely even skimming over the familiar words, she dug a quill and parchment from her trunk and scribbled hastily. Sealing it with her wand, not caring about underage magic, she hurried back downstairs and snatched Errol from his perch, throwing him out of the barrier, pleading with him to make it there before he dropped dead.

Composing herself as much as she could, she settled down on the couch beside the others who were looking at her as if she were mad. She simply smiled and asked Ron for a game of chess.

The next morning found Errol crumpled on the water board, a note in his beak. As Mrs. Weasley was the only other person awake and currently busy collecting eggs, she tore the note out of his clutches and read it.

 _Afraid your boyfriend might find out about your treacherous rendezvous? Meet me tonight and the letters will cease._

Enraged, she ripped the note into pieces, stuffing the feather into her jean pocket. She would go this time, but only to give that infuriating prat a piece of her mind.

Five minutes to midnight had her sneaking through the quiet house and across the dark garden, shivering slightly in the chill as she stepped over the barrier. Damn Dementors. She suddenly wished she was better at her Patronus. Problem was she could never think of anything happy enough…

Holding the feather aloft, her wand in her other hand, she felt the tug around her waist she'd felt when they'd left for the Quidditch World Cup. She landed on her bum on a hardwood floor, the room around her too dark to make out.

"Graceful."

Humiliated, she stood and wiped herself off.

"Well? I'm here. What was so important-"

Her words were cut short by lips, lips so soft and eager, hands so warm, clutching at her, dragging her close, dragging her under…

Snapping herself to reality she tore from his grasp, her hand coming out to slap him across the face. Huffing, she took another step back, distancing herself from the heat of his body.

"I don't know what you thought was going to happen-"

He was upon her before she had time to react, fingers digging in, grabbing hold, taking claim. She whipped her head to the side but he only grabbed her chin and held it tightly, working her mouth with easy skill. When she brought her hand back for another blow he caught it in his own, holding it tightly, pulling it above his head so that she was forced to flatten herself against him on tiptoe in order for her arm to not be pulled from its socket.

She fought him, punching, kicking, biting. She would never get more than a step away from him before she was enfolded once more in his arms. She hoped to get him angry enough to retaliate but he never did, and when she drew her wand on him he simply threw it across the room and continued right on with his destruction of her.

She didn't know exactly when she surrendered, everything was blurring into need and heat and his hands and lips which were like a drug, befuddling her mind until only one thought prevailed: to get to as much of him as she possibly could.

He pulled her down to the ground at some point, covering her body with his own, trapping her in his embrace. His hands travelled her body expertly, unraveling every thought and hesitation, learning every secret and bringing forth a passion and desperation buried so deep within her she hadn't realized it was there.

Her hands tugged at his clothing, ripping it just to get inside, to feel his skin, to know he was real, that this was real. She groaned as he pressed his erection against her core and it was all the confirmation she needed. Urgency fueled her actions and she shoved her hand down his pants to touch him, wondering at the size, the feel. He groaned, shifting so that she could maneuver her hand easier, yanking his trousers down, unashamed at his nakedness. For a moment she envied his blithe manner and when he began removing _her_ clothing she forced herself to allow it. What had she to be ashamed of? It was obvious he was crazy for her…but what if he didn't like what he saw? What if he was disappointed with the expectations he'd built up?

Her worries were for naught as he growled in approval, his hands and teeth everywhere, nipping at her sides, her breasts, her shoulder and neck. Everything he could reach without her having to remove her hand he practically attacked, all the while straining against her, pumping into her fist. Taking the hint, she stroked him, learning him, gauging his reactions on what he liked.

"For fuck's sake, you're going to drive me mad," he murmured. She smiled and then gasped as his fingers drove into her. She hadn't even realized her pants had been removed, but she was naked as the day she was born, prostrate before him, every piece of her visible to his hungry eyes which raked over her as she undulated against his ministrations. "Come on, come apart."

She was powerless to stop it as the orgasm ripped through her, his mouth capturing her cry of pleasure. And then he was kissing down her neck, sending chills down her spine and her hands fell helplessly to her side while he unraveled her.

She was like putty beneath his quest until he began nipping the inside of her thigh. She was uncomfortable with his close proximity to _down there_ as she was rather wet and sticky. She tried to nudge him up but he only drew her legs further apart, revealing every gleaming inch of her. She tried to hide her embarrassment, not wanting him to realize how very innocent she was. He grinned up at her and just as she reached forward to pull his head back to her lips, to a safe place, he dove down and licked her slit, the pleasurable sensations drowned by her indignation.

"What are you doing?!" she cried, trying to scoot back but his hands caught her hips and pulled her right back. She was mortified to realize he was laughing at her.

"Relax, I promise you'll enjoy this," he chuckled, leaning back down.

"I don't think-" the words ended on an unpreventable moan as a wave of heat flooded her senses. Propriety warred with the incredible bliss of what he was doing. "Really, you-you shouldn't-"

"Will you stop talking for ten fucking minutes and enjoy yourself? Quit over-analyzing everything for once and just feel, just _live."_

Abashed by his words, ashamed to be so thoroughly transparent, she shut her mouth and lay back, trying to empty her mind.

It wasn't hard to do as he returned to his task with skilled enthusiasm, licking and sucking, shoving his tongue into her until she wanted to die. Her body bowed, trying to get as close to him as possible as he destroyed her. Fingernails raked the floor and his arm, his hair. She felt that familiar ball of heat raging up, every muscle clenched in anticipation.

"Please," she begged. His tongue flicked her over and over, liquid fire racing through her veins. He shoved three fingers roughly into her, pounding, thrusting her over the edge as she screamed, her world going black.

Sight and sound slowly came back to her, every inch of her body buzzing. She looked up into his sweaty features, taut with something she wouldn't understand yet. He dove at her, taking her mouth with as much enthusiasm as he had her core and she could taste the sweet tartness of herself on his lips.

"I need you, love," he grunted, his eyes beseeching. He wanted her to do to him what he'd done to her.

She was nervous, she understood the gist of his request, but what if she wasn't any good? What if she couldn't make him...?

Shaking the doubting thoughts from her mind she leaned up and kissed him hard, heard him growl as she took him back up in her hand. Kissing her way down his body, enjoying her new explorations, she took her place above him, urging him to lie back to which he gladly obliged.

His member stood out prominently against a nest of soft golden curls, more beautiful and powerful than anything she'd ever imagined. When she looked up into his face his eyes were at half mast, his lips slightly parted. He stroked her hair away from her face softly and she smiled, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his erection, listened to him growl in pleasure before taking more of him into her mouth, exploring with her tongue and teeth and lips. His head fell back as she tried to fit as much of him as possible into her mouth, sucking while her hand joined to pump him.

It wasn't long before he was bucking into her mouth, his fingers twisted in her hair, keeping it back off her face as he urged her along.

"Faster, love, don't stop," he thrust up into her harder, choking her slightly so that her eyes watered. "Fuck, I'm going to come."

And he did, spurting into her mouth while as he groaned. She swallowed the salty emission and looked up at him where he smirked apologetically.

"Glad you came?"

She knew he meant it to ease her anxiety but it simply forced her to realize what she'd just done. Again.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she muttered, searching for her clothes. He grabbed her hand, halting her in the process of dragging her shirt on.

"But we are," he said, looking into her eyes. It was dark but for the little light streaming from the window and his eyes shined. "I don't know why I need you so badly and I don't think you know why you need me either. But it's there, whatever it is. And I can't fight it anymore."

She said nothing and dropped his gaze. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, drawing her into his arms. She gave in then, wrapping her arms around him, allowing the feel of him to settle her resolve. They weren't hurting anybody. No one knew. No one would suspect. They could draw the comfort they needed from each other and on the outside stay the same.

"Then we won't," she finally whispered. She pulled away slightly to look into his face. "When you need me, I'll be here. When I need you I expect the same. We both know nothing can ever come of this and it stays that way. It'll be our secret. Until…"

"Until."

He leaned forward and kissed her softly and they let their unspoken words fade into the night.

XXXXXXXXX

A/N:

TreatNeverKeepKeep: I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter, how this one was to your liking as well!

gus'hazelgrace: I'm happy to have you here now to review! Glad you enjoyed it, this is definitely one of my favorites :)

SB Potterhead Budgie Lover: Thank you so much for your kind words, I hope you liked this next bit!

XOXO

RynStar15


	3. Chapter III

The beginning of term was nothing short of torture. After having followed him into Knockturn Alley she was hard-pressed to excuse his actions. Surely, after everything they'd shared he couldn't possibly be on their side, could he?

But it was no denying what they'd seen and heard; he had evidently received the Mark, however she tried to dissuade Harry.

And then his attack on Harry on the train…

His inexcusable attitude in the classroom…

His sneaking around the castle, not attending to his Prefect duties…

She tried in vain to get his attention without being noticed, but he seemed to be ignoring her, moodier than ever, snapping at everyone, pale and aloof.

It wasn't until halfway through October that he got her attention. She was thoroughly shaken after seeing what had happened to Katie, irritated at Harry's stubborn insistence that he had done it after there was no evidence at all…

She had finally made her way to her dorm, her ears ringing with Harry's accusations, when she heard a tapping at the window. Looking around to be sure the girls were still downstairs, she opened the window to allow the brown school owl to flutter in and drop a tightly sealed scroll onto her bed. She opened it with trembling hands and read in a shaky scrawl:

 _Meet me in Flitwick's classroom at one._

Anxious to find out the reason for his strange behavior, she sneaked out at a quarter 'til, hurrying through the dark common room and slinking in the shadows of the chilly halls, slipping into the room where he was instantly upon her, pressing her against the door, his lips ripping at hers, his quaking hands gripping her face, fingers digging into her scalp. Desperate as he, she pulled him against her, that flame he'd ignited rising out of nowhere, dragging her under, consuming her.

He shoved her robes down her arms and slid his hands up her sides, tugging her sweater up and off, his lips only leaving hers long enough to tear the material away and instantly resuming where they left off. They quickly divested themselves of the rest of their clothing and he pulled her down on top of the pile, his lips slowing against hers as he spread out over her. He drew in a shaky breath and pulled back enough to look into her eyes and she felt her heart skip a beat. He was so hauntingly beautiful, despite the dark bags under his eyes and the unusual pallor of his skin. He stroked a stray strand of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, following the shell of it and making her shudder.

She could feel the tremble of his hand. Concerned, she reached up and grabbed it in her own, stilling the tremor. He smiled sadly but before she could ask he leaned down for another kiss, this one soft and deep, tugging at her heart strings as she felt the intensity buried within it. His other hand stroked down her side making her writhe against him. She could feel every inch of his skin and it was so subtly erotic that when his fingers finally slid between her legs he groaned at the wetness he found there.

Kissing his way down her body, he nipped at her hip before laving his tongue between her lips, dragging a whimper from her as her eyes rolled. He dove in, shoving her quickly to orgasm by flicking his tongue over her sensitive nub and she cried out, grasping at his hair. Apparently not satisfied, he lapped up her juices and shoved his fingers into her, watching her as she thrashed against his ministrations, moaning, her hands gripping at their clothes, the flagstone, anything that might keep her grounded. But it was useless. When she came back down he was climbing over her, sharing the taste of her womanhood with her. His knees spread her legs and her heart pounded. When he pressed his erection against her she jumped and he shushed her, leaning his sweaty forehead against hers.

"Don't worry love," he murmured, kissing her brow. "We won't be crossing that particular barrier tonight. I just need to feel you, to get a taste. Something that will keep me going when I'm not with you."

She tried to catch his eye but he buried his face in her hair, kissing her neck, ear, shoulder. He moved against her, sliding himself against her wet slit and making her gasp at the sensations it aroused. She found herself lifting to meet his thrust and when he held himself right at her entrance, pressing ever so slightly against it, she had to fight not to raise herself and cross that line. Because she knew now that he was the only one she wanted to take that from her, to be the only one who would have that piece of her.

But not now. Tonight was not the night. And so she gave back what he gave to her, made him growl in frustration and when his ministrations quickened she knew she had him. She clutched at him, rearing up to rub against him as his fingers dug into her hips, his breath caught.  
He spilled his seed over her stomach with a groan, gasping to catch his breath, rubbing out the last few drops. She smiled in accomplishment and he grinned back at her, catching her lips.

And as she gathered her things she realized it was the calmest she'd seen him in months.

As she tugged on her sweater she cleared her throat, nerves quivering in her belly. "Are-are you alright? I mean…how have you been?"

His posture stiffened and he turned away from her. "I'm fine," was his curt retort. She could tell he obviously did not want to talk, so she slipped out of the room and into the hall. He caught her arm halfway down and whipped her around, catching her lips, coaxing her into submission.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to be so cruel. You're the last person I want to hurt. I've been going through a lot lately and it's been…rough. I didn't mean to take it out on you. Please, forgive me."

She leaned up and pressed her lips against his; ashamed she had taken such offense when it was obvious the strain he'd been under. She couldn't think about the reasoning. It was not a part of their deal. She could only hope that somewhere, deep down, he was truly on her side, even if he couldn't show it.

"There's nothing to forgive. When can I see you again?"

"Soon. I'll send you an owl."

"I'll be waiting."

He kissed her one last time and they departed.

XXXXXXXXXX

She did not, in fact, await his owl.

Tears streaming down her face, she scribbled a hasty note against the wall in the owlery. It was too dark to see if what she had written was even legible, but she didn't bother to light her wand to proof read. Yanking the nearest owl to her, ignoring its appalled protest and barely noticing the sharp nip it gave her, she tucked the note into the pouch on its leg and tossed it out the window.

Shaking, she ran through the freezing corridors, ignoring any sensibility to the fact that it was well after midnight, on a game night, no less, and there would surely be any number of teachers and prefects present. But by some sort of miracle she made it to the empty potions classroom unnoticed, her face soaking. Placing the usual enchantments, she allowed herself to break down, just for a moment. She could still see his lips on hers, the smile on his freckled face. Her chest clenched with the painful image of them bursting into the classroom, their hands intertwined. They looked so happy…

She hadn't even noticed he'd entered until he was yanking her up, dragging her into his arms, holding her tight, dragging her face back and shoving away the hair that was plastered to her cheek.

"What's wrong, what happened? Are you alright?"

Bewildered at his frantic reaction, she could only nod. He folded her back into his arms and she could feel the shudder run through him. Relief. For her.  
"I'm s-sorry, I d-didn't mean to frighten you, I just n-needed to see you…"

He pulled her back ever so slightly once more to look into her eyes. "What happened? Are you sure you're alright?"

"Y-yes, of course," she stammered, feeling ashamed. Of course she should have realized how she'd sounded, her cryptic note, her hysterical sobbing…

"Here, sit down a minute, I need to replace the Locking Charm," he said, easing her into the nearest chair and waving his wand at the door, then the lights which made her squint.

"Now tell me what this is-shit, you're bleeding, why are you bleeding?" He was instantly at her feet, yanking her hand up to examine the rather nasty gash the angry bird had left. She laughed at the bizarre situation she found herself in.

"I admit I was rather abusive to my messenger. The owl," she explained with a smile when he looked confused. He gave a dry chuckle and conjured a roll of gauze. She lifted her eyebrows.

"Impressive."

He snorted. "I'm afraid I don't know any healing spells, so this will have to do."

"It's fine. Thank you."

He said nothing but bandaged her wound gently, tying up the end of the gauze before lifting her hand to his mouth. Her heart stuttered.

"Better?"

She nodded, the dull ache only barely registering in her conscious. He looked up at her from where he knelt on the floor, concern etched into his hollow features. "Now, tell me what this is all about."

She shook her head, suddenly feeling foolish. "It's nothing, really…I-I shouldn't have bothered you…"

"But you did. The least you can do is appease my curiosity."

Heat flooded her cheeks. Why had she thought this was a good idea? "Really, it's silly…"

"Amuse me, then."

She could tell he wasn't going to let it go. She considered making something up, perhaps something a little direr to have warranted such an over-reaction, but knew he would see right past it.

"It's just…Ron…"

His face hardened, his body tensed. She could see he was trying desperately to keep from shouting. "You're kidding me, right? You dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night, scared me into thinking you were hurt or in danger…because you had a fight with your boyfriend?"

"He is not my boyfriend!" she snapped in indignation. "He's Lavender's…"

His cheeks burned red from suppressed rage. The reality of her actions pressed upon her.

"Look, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking-"

 _"That_ was obvious."

She glared at him. "You don't have to be cruel."

 _"I'm_ being cruel?! You scared the hell out of me! 'Meet me in the potions room, now, I need you.'" He quoted from her note, standing to pace away from her, dragging his hands through his hair in agitation. "Tears all over it, ink smudged! And now you're telling me it's because you can't hang on to that redheaded freak? For fuck's sake, Hermione, I thought you were being attacked, injured, and not from some bloody owl! And- Merlin, _now_ what?"

He had turned back around only to see fresh tears scoring down her face. It took her a moment to compose herself, never having imagined the reaction his words would have on her. She looked up into his steely eyes. "You've never said my name before."

His hands fell slowly from his hair to his sides as he cursed quietly. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand and turned back away from her, staring across the room at something she couldn't see. Tremors racked her body as she looked down at her hands, fingering the white dressing he'd so lovingly administered.

She knew better than to feel anything for him, but she was so raw from Ron's betrayal that these small offerings touched her deeper than she cared to admit.

"Look, I'm sorry…this, us…it can't, you know that…"

She looked up at him darkly. "You don't have to remind me."

They stared at each other for a long moment before he sighed, scrubbing his face with both hands. "Fuck…fuck, I'm sorry. _Shit…"_

He strode back across the room and pulled her once more into his arms, tucking her head beneath his cheek. He sighed again. "I'm really terrible at this. You said you needed me and all I'm doing is making things worse." She could feel his heart pounding in his chest and unconsciously pressed her forehead into his warm neck, breathing in the musky scent of his cologne. "You really had me going there for a minute, Hermione." Her heart squeezed not unpleasantly. "Next time, just…say something along the lines of 'I'm not in immediate peril, but could you please pleasure me with your company at the earliest possible convenience?'"

She giggled. "I'll try to remember that."

He nudged her head up and cupped her cheek, angling her so that his lips could caress hers just so. She couldn't prevent the longing sigh that escaped her lips, nor the moan when he took the kiss deeper. He lifted his head ever so slightly and ran his thumb across her swollen bottom lip.

"He's a fool."

He took her mouth again, stronger this time, making her whimper as he dragged her against his hard body. He was already prepared for her, his massive erection pressing against her stomach. His hands scored down her sides, rough fingers sneaking beneath her shirt to caress her smooth stomach. His thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts, just hinting at what was to come.

He placed open mouthed kisses down her neck making her shiver, her hands digging into the steely muscles on his upper arms.

He slowly tugged the shirt up, his mouth leaving her skin only to see what he had exposed. He hissed as he cupped her outside of her girly white bra, his thumbs rubbing over the pads covering her nipples. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she allowed him to look his fill. She'd never felt herself particularly pretty; plain features, bushy hair, thin body. She didn't have much curve at all, her small breasts and moderate hip line were nothing to goad about. But when he reached around her to undo her bar, allowing it to drop to the floor at her feet, the darkness that clouded his eyes made her ache with want, knowing he found pleasure in her body.

Suddenly, she felt bold. Ron had snubbed her. The pain he had left still twinged in her chest. But this man before her, so much more man than Ron, was looking at her with unbridled lust. She didn't need that immature prick. She needed this.

"Touch me," she whispered, the words hanging on her bottom lip until he came forward to snatch them with his own.

"My pleasure, Miss Granger."

His warm hands cupped her breasts making her moan. Everything they'd had up until this moment had been hurried, grappling for the crest he had shown her she could have. They'd never taken time to enjoy the simple pleasure of what their bodies had to give. Everything he had shown her was so beyond what her girlish fantasies had conjured about what happened between a man and a woman and she was more than happy to simply enjoy it.

The pads of his thumbs flicked over her nipples, hard from the chill of the room. His hot lips came back to her jaw, nipping there and travelling down, laving over her collar bone before he bent to take her nipple into the searing cavern of his mouth.

She cried out, astonished by the ferocity of the pleasure she got from this simple act. He groaned, suckling, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. His hands were at her sides, digging in harshly at his obvious excitement. She'd never felt so wanton.

"I have to see more of you," he growled, relinquishing his hold on her to undo the clasp of her jeans, dragging them down to reveal the plain cotton below. She suddenly wished she'd worn something sexy, something intriguing, but then again she'd never imagined anything like this would happen to her at all.

He squatted, helping her step out of her jeans only for his hands to shoot out and grab her thighs, skimming slowly up the smooth skin, his fingers only just teasing the underside of her panties.

"Turn for me," he requested dryly. Smiling, she spun slowly around, biting her lip in amusement when he sucked in a breath. His hands continued their perusal of the sensitive skin of her upper thighs, finally sliding up to cup her luscious globes. He swore lightly, his thumbs sneaking beneath the fabric to pull it up, exposing more of her for his viewing pleasure. Normally she would be mortified of being scrutinized so closely, but her usual self conscious demure seemed to have fled out the door.

His hands turned her leisurely so that she was facing him again. His dark eyes traveled up every hill and valley of her body, his fingers inching to the lining of her panties. Without further ado, he disposed of these as well, every line of his face hard. His hands came back up her thighs, stopping just below her womanhood.

His thumbs lightly teased her plump lips, just visible at the apex of her shapely legs. She sucked in a breath and he looked up then, his face so open, so visible right then when he was normally so guarded, so hard.

"You are exquisite," he breathed, standing to tower over her. "I've always wondered what you had hiding beneath all those books."

She giggled. It was the second time in mere minutes. Since when did she giggle? "Is that so?"

"It is. I've lusted after you for years. That ginger prat is a brainless fool of the highest degree. I've never had any idea what you see in him."

"That's not fair…"

"No? When you're telling me he snubbed _you_ for that dim witted Brown tramp? Isn't she the one who is always weeping through her panties over _Divination?"_

She didn't respond. She felt the exact same way, but the thought was clumped in her throat, hard and full of jealousy.

"That he would choose that silly girl over you only makes him dafter than I'd thought. A complete imbecile. You are so much more than she, than anyone in this damn castle. If he can't see that…" He shook his head, his hands cupping her hips, his eyes still roving possessively over her body. When he finally caught her eye her heart all but stopped in her chest at the look he gave her. "And yet I cannot be upset, for what he cannot see, I have. You're mine, Hermione. Do you understand that?"

Her heart started again, pounding away at his implication. She wasn't sure what he meant. "Y-yes…"

"Say it."

"I'm yours."

"Say my name."

Her eyes never wavered from his, so haunted from things she knew nothing of; telling him silently that every word she said was for him, it was truth from her deepest being.

For some reason, this complicated creature, this intelligent, witty, life-weary man, seemed to understand her as no one else did, as not even Harry did. They had never spoken anything but malice to each other beyond their very few dealings behind closed doors, and even then never more than a few words of need, of necessity. How could he understand her so completely? How could those eyes, that had seen more of the world than anyone their age had any right to, be on someone as plain, as dull, as Muggle-born, as the bossy, annoying, Hermione Granger?

And yet they were. "I'm yours, Draco."

He took her lips and for the first time that night she felt the urgency that so normally fueled them and she whimpered, reaching up to drag his head further down to where she could plunder more easily. His hands gripped her roughly, pulling her up his body, taking his claim.

She pushed at his robes, shoving them off his shoulders. He assisted her quickly with his button-down, both of them tearing at it until it, too, was tossed aside, and she was free to touch the hard ridges of his muscles.

He took quick care of his pants as she leaned forward to taste her fill of his masculine chest, as she did her own survey when his manhood sprang free from its restraints and he was as naked as she, a glorious figure of a man.

And then he was yanking her up, wrapping her legs around his body as he ravished her mouth, his need cascading over her as he locked his arms around her, melding their bodies together as he lowered her gently to the rough bed of clothing they had created.

He treasured her body, taking, tasting, feeling. His hands covered every inch until she was writhing in beautiful agony, needing him more than water, than air. She'd never known what it was to be so consumed by need for a person, just one, just the one who could give her everything she'd ever desired.

She moaned when his fingers finally slid between her moist lips, the wetness evidence of how thoroughly he could arouse her with the simplest of touch. His breath caught and he left her mouth to ease down her body, to enjoy every part of her that made her woman. He took his time, tasting her breasts, dipping his tongue into her belly button, running his hands over the flat expanse of her stomach, nipping her hip. She squirmed, wondering if he was going to do as he had before, something she'd never considered in her wildest fantasies, something that seemed so dirty and yet had given her pleasure beyond comprehension. She could see his smirk as if he knew was she was thinking.

"I knew you would enjoy that," he growled, parting her legs even more, granting him access to the most intimate parts of her. He would have these things, things she not give anyone else. "I must admit I've never taken such pleasure in the act myself, but you have the sweetest cunt in the land. I've been dreaming about it since." As he spoke his lips wandered closer and closer to where she needed him most. "Do you want me to do it again?" She moaned in approval, lifting her hips as he planted soft kisses on the sensitive skin between her thigh and her womanhood. "Say it."

"Please, Draco," she whimpered, her nails gripping his hair, urging him on. As soon as the words passed her lips he plundered her hood, wrecking her until she was keening. She gripped at his head, pleading with him not to stop and his tongue flicked over and over her, delving inside to make her hips whip up to meet him. Pleasure as she'd never dreamed consumed her in waves, lifting her up over and over, as he treasured her, pulling her to a height she still didn't understand.

When his fingers shoved into her roughly, stretching her, she came undone, crying into the dark night, grabbing for him. As she came down from that high he was there, taking her mouth lovingly, sharing her pleasure as his manhood pressed against her opening.

"I'm going to take you tonight," he whispered. "I'm going to make you mine like you will never be anyone else's. Not Weasley's or Potter's, not any man you should see from this moment on. You will be mine, Draco Malfoy's. And I will be yours, Hermione Granger. This…this we will always have, it can never be taken away. Do you understand that?"

She nodded, cupping his cheek, kissing him softly. "We'll keep it locked away where no one will ever find it. No matter what may come."

"No matter what may come."

He kissed her deeply, pressing her harder into the clothing and grabbing her hip, pulling her into position and angling her just so. She knew it would hurt, had heard about it, read about it. But it didn't worry her. She wanted to give him that, that ability to cause her pain and pleasure at the same time, something no one else would ever be able to do.

She was dripping from his earlier ministrations and yet she watched him lean back and spit into his hand, rubbing it over himself. He smiled when he caught her watching.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore than necessary. I want this to bring you pleasure." She nodded, suddenly nervous and not exactly sure why.  
But then he was pressing the tip of himself in, breaching her entrance a millimeter at a time. He cursed quietly as the stretching sensation made the breath catch in her throat. His fingers had only ever hinted at this part and it was so much more exquisite than she'd imagined. When he was about halfway he leaned forward, enfolding her once more into his arms, pressing them together as tightly as possible. His lips found hers, his fingers massaging her back slowly as he pressed deeper making her moan. She was too small, surely he wouldn't fit any further…

But he pulled out slowly, easing the tension. Confused, she pressed her hips back to him, wanting more. He only continued to work her mouth, coaxing her into platitude until he began to push slowly back in, this time less painfully.

He did this over and over, each time going a little deeper, showing her a little more. She was soon so steeped in desire she thought she'd surely die. More, there had to be more, she needed more.

And he gave it to her, moving faster, pressing harder. Sounds tore from her throat but his lips never left hers, catching very gasp, every groan. He held her tight, preventing her from whipping her hips up like she wanted, asking him to take more from her. She didn't understand what there was left to give, but there was something…

His pace increased, working her like a bow until every muscle was taut against him, her nails scoring into him, pleading him on. She felt that summit rise over her, devouring her, taking her over until there was nothing left, so much deeper than anything his lips and fingers had hinted at.  
She cried out as it broke over her, then screamed as he pierced her, sheathing himself fully inside her and taking that final piece she'd wanted but hadn't understood. She sobbed against him, immersed in pleasure as that stabbing pain tore through her. He worked her harder, deeper, dragging that height even higher, her head whipping back, fully devoured in sensation.

His name fell from her lips, the only word she could remember as he worked her body, never letting her come back down. Wrenching her deeper, deeper, giving her more, taking more from her.

And then it broke over her, shoving her into another dimension past sight or sound, past anything but them, and she screamed again, pulling him over with her as she shattered.

She floated down slowly to earth, gasping, her muscles that had held him in a vise easing, melting. He panted above her, his face in her hair, his breath in her ear. Lazily, he started planting kisses on her neck, her shoulder. She wanted to do the same, but her body was beyond response.

Eventually the kisses ceased and his lax muscles swaddled her once more, turning them so that they were side by side, her head falling to his shoulder. She could feel his erection sliding from her, felt the wetness from their lovemaking coat her. But he made quick work of that, grabbing one of their discarded wands and muttering a quick cleaning charm before pulling her closer, holding her tighter.

She drifted off just like that, an impossible serenity encompassing her knowing that this, truly, was her only place in the world.

XXXXXXXXXXX

XOXO  
RynStar15


	4. Chapter IV

The weeks following proved to be some of the hardest acting Hermione had ever had to do. True, seeing Ron with "Lav-Lav" was still gut-wrenching (and exceedingly disgusting) enough to have her running in the other direction anytime the two leeches were in close proximity, she just couldn't seem to muster the pain it had brought on initially. After what she and Draco had shared, everything else just seemed so…juvenile. Watching the two of them sucking face like they needed the other to breathe was just pathetic.

But Harry seemed as reticent to spend his time around them as she was and she was thereby forced to play the scorned woman. When she was too close to a laughing fit she would duck into the nearest bathroom to pull herself together. When Luna caught her snorting into her fist one day in the loo after watching Ron attempt to make fun of her she'd had to pull on her nose hairs to make her eyes water so it had looked like she was crying instead of laughing.

She honestly could not believe what had made him act this way. Hadn't she tried to invite him to Slughorn's party? She had thought she'd made her feelings towards him obvious. Did he truly find her that abhorrent?

And at the same time, she felt a deep shame that warred with the longing she felt every time she saw Ron and Stupid-Bimbo-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named holding hands in the corridors.

She would never have that with Draco. She would never be able to sit beside him in class and feel his hand upon her knee. Never be able to share a meal with him, cozy up to him beside the fire, go for private walks around the lake. No one could ever know the feelings that tore at her with every glance of his fiery grey eyes, the breath that caught in her chest every time she thought of the beauty they had shared.

No one would ever know that she was a traitor to her own kind.

But it was this guilt which made it easier and easier to lash out at Ron. It was his fault after all. If he hadn't rebuffed her every advance she wouldn't even be considering what she was doing now. If she wasn't so desperate for attention she wouldn't have to seek it from their greatest enemy. This merry-go-round of anger was spinning out of control until she was lashing out at Harry enough to drive him insane, she knew, but she couldn't help it. She felt so betrayed by Ron and disgusted at herself she was hard-pressed to keep her mind where it belonged, until Harry brought out that stupid book, anyway. Couldn't he see that it was clearly full of Dark Magic? Why was he so blind? He should have taken it to Dumbledore first thing. Or at the very least toss it in the first bin he came to. Hadn't he learned anything throughout all these years?

After giving Harry yet another railing (to which he'd turned a deaf ear) and running into the Tentacula Twins, she found herself cornered once again by Cormac McLaggen. After repressing her gag reflex at her revulsion of him, she was suddenly struck with a feeling of revenge, a feeling she had rarely felt in any occasion, but the vision of Ronald wrapping himself around the sallow slag was fresh on her mind.

"Would you like to accompany me to Slughorn's party this weekend?" she spat out, interrupting his incessant prattle. He was taken aback as she had always spurned his advance with utmost haste.

"Come again?"

She repeated herself, feeling as though she were courting a rather daft toddler. He readily agreed and went on about how she was bound to have fallen for his irresistible charm eventually and she cut him off telling him when and where to meet her and ducking around his attempt to grope her. She hurried down the hall and gasped in fright as she was yanked into an empty classroom and she fought, envisioning Cormac's repulsive face but she was cut off by being tugged against a warm and familiar body even as he covered her mouth to prevent her scream and his other hand caught her wand which she'd brought up in self-defense.

"It's me," Draco whispered in her ear and she ceased her struggles. She ripped out of his arms and smacked him soundly on the arm.

"Quit _doing_ that, you scare the dickens out of me every time!" she snapped. "I almost cursed you!"

He snorted. "I could have deflected it a year in advance. Your fighting skills require work."

She started to retort but he silenced her with a wave of his hand. "Am I mistaken or did you just ask out _McLaggen?"_

Hermione blushed, embarrassed. "Yes, well, he has been groveling over me for quite some time and Ronald absolutely _abhors_ him so I thought-"

"So you thought you'd give him a free invitation to maul you in public for your own immature form of vengeance? Hermione, he's had his eye on you all year, you know what he intends. He's a miscreant; he'll drag you to the dungeons and have his way with you at the slightest chance!"

"I can take care of myself, thanks," she replied coolly.

"Really? Because last I knew I easily dragged you in here without much resistance. I could have had you gagged and bound before you began your silly attempt to fight."

"I highly doubt McLaggen intends to-"

"I can guarantee you that is exactly what he intends!"

"You know, there are some men out there who would want me for more reasons than my body!" she fumed, even knowing that he was precisely right. McLaggen couldn't care less about her as a person and probably only wanted her because she was Harry's friend and therefore his easiest chance at fame. But the blow she struck had done as she intended and Draco's face darkened.

"Hermione, stay away from him. He's more dangerous than you think."

She snorted. "He's harmless. And who are you to say who I go out with anyway? What, are _you_ going to accompany me to Slughorn's party?" He stared at her stonily. "That's what I thought. Now if you'll excuse me I would like to go to bed, the last place, it seems, that I can find peace in this blasted castle from you prats!"

She stormed from the classroom and made her way to her dormitory, snapping at the Fat Lady so harshly that Violet had squealed in reproach.  
She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit something. She was so sick of it all! Who did he think he was, remarking on her decisions? He had no say whatsoever in what she did! They had only ever seen each other behind closed doors and that was the extent of their relationship. He could never have her in any other way, so why in Hades did he think he could tell her what to do?! She could do as she pleased and see who she pleased, not that it pleased her in any way to be seeing Cormac. The very idea brought chills and she was nauseated with her harried decision. But he didn't need to know that. She was sure that Cormac was a fine man…deep, _deep,_ down.

And all of this was Ron's fault anyway! Why couldn't he have chosen her?

Shrieking in frustration Hermione buried her face in her pillow and spent the night tossing restlessly.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Why?

Why in _Merlin_ had she thought this was a good idea?

She attempted to duck under McLaggen's arm for the umpteenth time that night but was stalled and his wet lips descended on hers once more. She whimpered in dismay and jumped as his hand crept ever higher. She shoved him back and followed a waiter back into the throng, weaving between people, looking for cover. She quickly spotted two abysmally clad members of the band that had played at the Yule Ball, whom she couldn't remember the name of, and squeezed unseen between them. Only when she heard Harry hailing her did she emerge. However, he was a direct beeline for Cormac and she promptly had to make yet another escape, only halting when she heard Draco's voice. She saw him struggling against Filch's grip and his eyes caught hers.

 _Get out,_ he mouthed quickly before loudly commenting on Filch's preferred fragrance.

Despite his warning, she was rooted to the spot and watched the exchange between him and Snape with fascination. She could tell there was something stewing between the two and when Snape dragged him out into the corridor she followed and quickly darted into the classroom beside them, pressing her ear against the adjacent wall. She listened to the entire exchange, her heart sinking with every word. It was true, then, about Katie, about his "task," about everything…

He was one of them. Voldemort had entrusted a task to him, no doubt as punishment for his father's imprisonment, of which she was partially to blame. How could Draco even stand to look at her, knowing she'd helped put his father behind bars? It was something she hadn't though much of, but which was clearly still an open wound for him.

She sat in the cold classroom hours after the two had left, listening to the party-goers filtering off to bed as she ran the conversation over and over in her mind.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The next day she said a hasty goodbye to Harry in the common room, an empty trunk by her side, and sneaked back up to her dormitory when Ron and Lavender began crawling up each other like arborists. She was supposed to be staying with her parents but since the conversation she'd heard during the party she knew Draco would be staying behind to work on his "mission." She scrawled a quick letter to her parents telling them that she just had too much studying to do to come home and begged them to understand. Her heart did sink a little as she sent the letter. She didn't know how much more time she had with them and hated wasting these weeks without them. But the knowledge that Draco was doing something dangerous right under her nose was too much. She had to find out what it was. He'd made it pretty clear that he'd been the one who had cursed Katie and yet Hermione didn't fall for it. Why would he target her, of all people? As far as she knew the two had never spoken off the Quidditch pitch and no amount of rivalry was worth murder. No, there had been another reason and Katie had somehow intercepted. So who was the deadly necklace for? Harry?

She then wrote another note asking him to meet her in the Transfiguration practice room at midnight. She knew the halls would be much more deserted since very few students had stayed behind this Christmas season. She doubted more than one teacher would be lurking about and they would therefore likely be undisturbed.

Nerves jangling, she arrived quite early and sat in the dark, shivering. She could of course turn on a light, but it might be seen out a window, and she wasn't ready to face him in the light anyway. The soft glow of the moon was oddly comforting.

When he finally strode through the door he slammed it behind himself so hard that she jumped right out of her seat before he turned and cast their wards upon the door before turning angrily to her.

"What are you doing here?" he growled darkly.

"I-I just wanted to see you…" she stammered, confused at his anger. He couldn't possibly know she'd overheard!

"You're not supposed to be here. You should be at home. _Why are you here?"_

He had not come any closer and yet she could see clearly his red eyes and drawn features. His angry demeanor had her dander up and she straightened her shoulders. "I'm not sure that it's any of your business. I certainly don't require your permission to do as I please."

She had half a mind to send him walking as she had not anticipated this behavior, but she needed information from him and it couldn't wait.  
"As it so happens, I'm here because of you."

He looked taken aback, the response she'd been looking for. She took a steadying breath and stepped forward in an attempt to rattle him.

"I heard every word you and Snape exchanged last night," she said, watching the fear enter his eyes. "I know about Katie, I know you have the Mark. I saw it last summer when you used it to intimidate Borgin and you don't hide it very well when we're together. I know you have a mission and that conversation with him played a role. I know Snape is a traitor; he's made the Unbreakable Vow to help you. I know a whole lot more than you think. What I don't know is why."

He stood there for several long, silent minutes. Hermione waited. She could practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

"I don't owe you an explanation. If what you say is true, then why haven't you reported me?"

"Because I wanted your side of the story."

"You won't get it. You're meddling in things that reach far beyond the realm of your pretty little world. You best get out while you still can."

"I'm in this, Draco. If you hadn't forgotten, I happen to be one of those pesky little _Mudbloods_ that you and your _Master_ are working so hard to rid the world of!"

"Then you'd better watch your step."

"Or what?" she trilled. "Are you going to do me in? Go ahead, you know the spell!" Hermione spread her arms wide and dropped her wand to the floor. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't stop. "Go on! Now I'm wandless! And being you're so _very_ clever I'm sure you can come up with some fine excuse! Come on, what would Voldemort give you?" She smiled when he started at the sound of his name. "What, don't like that I can say it? Voldemort! There, I said it again!"

"Watch yourself, Granger-"

"What, is he suddenly going to appear if I say it? Aren't you two bosom buddies? Why shouldn't you use his name?"

"You have no idea-"

"Oh, yes!" Hermione threw her head back and laughed. "That's right, I know _nothing_ of what he can do! My best friend hasn't escaped him several times or anything. And as a matter of fact, if I remember correctly, I escaped him last summer as well! Although it's true, I never had the pleasure of meeting him face-to-face, but if I recall your father didn't come out so well! Oh, no, have I said something to upset you?" she taunted as he turned on his heel for the door. But he whipped around so suddenly she had no time to react. His hand was at her throat and he had her on her toes, grasping at his wrists.

"I could kill you, you know," he murmured darkly, his breath hot on her face. Her lungs started to burn moments before he softened his grip, lowering her back to the floor. When he dropped his hand she gasped and reached up to rub the sore spot.

"Then why don't you?"

"You know why," he grated out, grabbing her upper arms, pulling her up so that she could see the anguish play out on his face. "You're the only thing I've ever wanted in this world and yet you're the one thing I stand to lose. Do you have any idea how much this is tearing me apart? I can't turn back, not now, I've come too far. He'll kill us all if I fail. Not just me, but my mother, my father…I know the game he's playing. He expects me to fail, he _wants_ me to. But I can't, not this time. I have to do this, me, not Snape! Don't you see?" Her heart shattered as tears sprang into his eyes. "Either I lose them...or I lose you. Either way, my life is over. It's over."

As tears ran down his face, Hermione knew. For some reason, they had been thrown together. Two people who were never meant to be, and yet they were. Above everything else, this was real.

"No, Draco," she whispered, reaching up to wipe away his tears. "You won't lose me. We'll get through this, somehow. I understand the situation you've been put into. No matter what you decide…I'll be here. Do you understand? We will always have this, we'll always have us. Never doubt that."

She watched as her words sank in. He looked as though he wanted to say something, his haunted features taut, but he refrained. He finally nodded jerkily and pulled her into his arms, crushing her against him, sinking his face into her shoulder. She had never seen him so wrecked and could only imagine the pain he was going through. What if her parents were on the line? Could she say no, even if she wanted to? What if it was them versus Harry? What would she decide? It was too horrible to consider and her heart broke knowing it was a choice Draco had to make.

He pulled her back enough to look into her chocolate eyes. "How did this happen? How did our lives come to this?"

Hermione let out a soft, sad laugh. "Don't ask me. One day I'm ten years old reading about scary witches from story books and now I'm in a secret school learning things I'd never have imagined in my wildest dreams, caught up in a magical war, trying to stay alive against an army of wizards who want me and my kind eradicated."

She watched his features fall, the now familiar line between his brows deepen. His hands fell from her face and he stepped backward, sinking onto a table, his features hard, tremors wracking his body. His head hung and he gripped the edge of the table hard.

Guilt assailed her as she played back the words she'd just said. The mark on his arm proved which side of the war he was on, the one opposite her. He was obviously torn up about his role and she'd gone and thrown it in his face. Ashamed, she took a step forward.

"Draco…"

"Don't. Please," he grated out, not looking up. "Don't say anything."

She pressed her lips together, her curiosity burning within her. She watched silently as he warred with demons she would never understand.

Suddenly nervous, she hugged herself, scared of the wedge she'd unknowingly driven between them. She had known from the beginning what he was, who he was. They'd come together despite their differences and now she was throwing it in his face, interrogating him, causing him even more pain. She didn't know what to do or say and was mortified by her behavior. He had never asked her about Harry, had never probed, never forced her to reveal anything about the Order. All he'd ever done was give her pleasure, make her forget for a short time about her fears and anxieties. He taught her what it was to be wanted, to be held and cherished. And here she was using their intimacy against him.

He was silent for so long that she jumped when he stood, scrubbing his face and going to the window where the stars twinkled silently above them, high above the woes of those on the ground. He leaned his hands against the sill and Hermione watched as his breath fogged the glass. She ached to go to him, to apologize, but she dared not make a sound.

"How can you even look at me?" he finally croaked. Taken aback, Hermione turned, her hands dropping. She had expected him to rant at her, scream at her for breaking the sanctity of their agreement. But the pain in his voice made her heart ache.

"Draco…"

"How can you even stand to be in my presence? How can you look me in the eyes, bear my touch? How can you allow me to take you, give yourself to me, after all that I've done? After everything I represent? Can you even imagine the thoughts that have gone through my head about you?" He turned and looked at her finally, wretched. "The first time I knew what you were, a _Mudblood,_ I wanted to set you on fire, to tear you apart and send my father the pieces so he would be proud. I was so disgusted I wrote home _begging_ to be sent to Durmstrang where I wouldn't have to live among your kind. I _dreamed_ about that basilisk dragging you down into the depths of the chambers to rid myself of your presence. I could hardly stand to be near you and all the other Muggle-borns in this school. You sickened me. You were all defiling my castle, stealing magic that wasn't yours. I remember working so hard in my classes so I could help my father one day; help him scrape the scum of you from our perfect world. You didn't belong here."

Hermione was shocked at the savage words he spewed, the conviction behind them. She had known he'd hated her, but he had been a child…had he truly wished her dead?

"And yet at every turn, you beat me. First by befriending Potter, who scorned me, resulting in my first failure. _I_ was supposed to befriend him, bring him onto _our_ side, show him what it truly meant to be a wizard. With him by my side, we would show the world that You-Know-Who was right all along; even The Boy Who Lived understood the dangers of Muggle-borns. But no, he was friends with a son of a traitor and a Mudblood."

He scoffed. "My father was furious. My first month in this place and I had failed him. Potter was a Gryffindor, unreachable, forever surrounded by families of those who fought so hard to keep your lot alive. I couldn't understand it. I didn't get how a Pureblooded wizard from such prestigious lines could soil himself with the likes of you. Didn't he see what he was doing? Tainting his name with the enemy?"

As Hermione held her silence, stunned to be hearing these proclamations, Draco began to pace. She watched him, every lithe muscle tense, worried he might turn on her at any moment and pounce.

"And then there you were, top of the class, beating me in every test, mastering spells far beyond my skill level, far beyond anyone our age. You couldn't imagine what it was like for the rest of us to struggle with the simplest of spells while you just whipped out charms like they were second nature. It confused me, how could this Muggle who had stolen magic be better than a _Pureblood?_ Then the confusion turned to anger, the anger to conviction. I had to figure out how you could do it, how you could possibly be better than me."

He finally stopped, leaning his hands against a desk. With his back bowed it seemed as though he was unable to bear the weight of his words, as if the world was suddenly too heavy to carry any longer. He let out a sardonic scoff, shaking his head.

"I threw myself into research. You were proving everything I knew wrong. And the more I read, the more scared I became. Everything I had ever known was falling apart. There was no research whatsoever to prove that Muggle-borns stole magic. Magic is woven into a person, it's in their blood, their cells, their _soul._ How could you steal that? In fact, it was proven that Muggle-borns could actually trace their heritage to a witch or a wizard, no matter how far back. It crops up randomly again, though I'm sure you know all of this already. You've read every damn book in the library."

She couldn't help but return his small, sad smile. He finally straightened up, looking at her. The pain in his features made her ache. Pity for his plight welled in her chest.

"How could my father lie to me all those years? How could he sit there and murder his own people? How could he torture someone just because their parents couldn't do magic? Muggle-borns…are no different than Purebloods. Except for their parents. And if _they_ could be persecuted simply because of that…then where did that leave me? What chance did _I_ have of ever becoming anything if my own parents were murderers and traitors to their own kind?"

"Oh, Draco…" she whispered, stepping toward him. But he shook his head and she stopped. He couldn't meet her eye.

"No, don't. Don't pity me. I can see it in your eyes. And that is the most painful part. All these years, everything I've put you through, even after I knew…and you pity me. Because that's who you are. No matter how hard things are for you, no matter what happens to you, it never fazes you. You were always so invincible, standing by Potter even though in doing so you were being dragged through hell. You took everything I threw at you with a smile and a shrug, standing up for others without blinking an eye, putting your life on the line for them. Anyone. Even me."

He looked at her then, locking eyes, turning her into a statue beneath his penetrating gaze. "You would be murdered on the spot if anyone found out about us, you know that right? I would be tortured, an outcast, but they can't lose me, not with how few Purebloods are left. But you…you're dispensable…more than that. You're wanted. You're _hunted._ And do you know why?"

Hermione couldn't do more than shake her head. She was hugging herself again to stop the tremors that wracked her body from his words. Fear flooded her from the look in his eyes. She realized that she probably didn't want to know…

"Because of me. They know who you are, how powerful you are, what a threat you pose…because of me. I told them. I told them everything about you. I wanted nothing more than to see you destroyed. Until it was too late."

Emotions slammed through her at his admission. Fear, betrayal, anger, resentment… But as she watched the tears well up in his eyes again those feelings lost their grip and slid through her body and onto the floor, replaced by something else she couldn't quite grasp, but which left her breathless nonetheless.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he choked out, the words thick through the tears and pain. "I'm so sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I can never rescind my actions, I know that. But I swear to you, I _swear,_ I don't believe those things anymore, I don't believe my father and I don't want to follow the Dark Lord. I would do anything, _anything,_ to undo the damage that I've done. But I can't." His lips quivered and tears streamed down his face in wretched turmoil and Hermione could feel her own eyes welling. "I can't. It's gone too far, _I've_ gone too far to turn away. They'll never let me go. Pureblood or not, they'll murder me and everyone I love if I leave. There's too much at stake, too many people who would suffer if I deserted. And I can't put anyone else in danger. I already endangered you, the one person I truly care for in this world. And there's nothing I can do to fix it."

Her tears fell; she could no longer hold them back. She wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know how. He seemed so far away, so untouchable. She'd had no idea, no clue of the lies he'd been fed, the agony he must have gone through learning the truth. The strength he must have to do what he had to do to survive, to save his family. The courage it must have taken him to admit these things to her. The compassion that welled inside him for her, hidden all these years, locked away for her protection.

So because words seemed so inadequate, she said nothing, but moved towards him. He watched her, still as a statue, misery marring his usually guarded face.

She stopped inches from him, having to cock her head up to maintain eye contact. With all of her Gryffindor courage, she reached up and placed her hands on either side of his face, her thumbs catching two more tears which cascaded down. His composure shattered and he sobbed as she brought his face down to hers and kissed him softly, stroking his face with her thumbs, digging her fingers into his hair, pulling him into her body until he broke down and wrapped his arms around her, dragging her to his chest. He wept desolately as she destroyed him with her forgiveness. She kissed him deeper, not minding the salty tears or snot, determined to show him how much his transition meant to her. After all he had been through, everything he'd been taught, he'd made it through all odds and proved with every touch what person he wanted to be. For her.

She felt him collapsing, the weight of his anguish dragging him down, so she lowered them slowly to the floor, her mouth never leaving his. They knelt before each other, hands clutching, needing, taking, giving. He muttered "I'm sorry," over and over again into her hair, onto her cheek, against her lips. She took his words, knowing he needed to give them, and accepted them, showing him with her body. Hermione felt every barrier she'd ever built around this man dissolve into the cold air around them, driving it away.

Their actions slowed, cooled. She dragged his head into the crook of her shoulder and just held him, felt his strong arms clutching her to his chest.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered.

"Draco…"

"Please."

The desperation in his voice stamped down her fear and she nodded. There was no one here, no one to miss her. What harm could it cause?

He rose, taking her hand in his and her heart thudded in her chest as he led her out of the room and dragged her through the freezing corridors.

Instead of going down towards the dungeons he led her up and she followed without question, although curiosity burned in her chest. She clung to his arm with her spare hand and worried her bottom lip, her eyes and ears straining for anyone who might be about, anyone who might catch them and plunge them into a world of danger. She would never tell him, but after what he'd admitted about her being hunted she was more frightened than she'd ever been.

When he stopped outside of the familiar stretch of wall on the seventh floor, she waited patiently as he strode back and forth three times, remembering the last time she'd seen him here when he'd very nearly gotten her and her friends expelled.

Everything had changed.

A wooden door appeared and he took her hand again and led her inside. The room he'd created was warm and cozy, the only light coming from a low fire. A soft bed was accompanied by an intimate seating area and a cabinet in the corner. Dark wood panels lined the room and thick carpet beckoned beneath her shoes.

Draco turned her to him and kissed her softly, slowly disrobing her. She went to work on his clothes as well, not hurrying, and wondering why he didn't sneak his hands down to her awaiting crevice. But she didn't question, just allowed him to lead her to the bed where he lifted her and tucked her beneath the thick covers. He rounded the bed and entered on the other side, slipping beneath the sheets himself and pulling her close, tucking her head under his chin and kissing her softly on the forehead. Her heart swelled and her lids lowered, her entire body plait and more comfortable than she'd ever been in her life. She squeezed him tight and sighed as he played with her hair softly.

She drifted to sleep to the crackle of the flames in the grate and the sound of his heart beneath her ear.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

XOXO  
RynStar15


	5. Chapter V

"Mmm," she moaned drowsily, arching her neck to allow the lips traveling it more space. Her dreams jumbled as she slowly roused, a warm hand cupping her breast, massaging it lazily as another sneaked beneath her and lithe fingers tickled over her stomach. She moaned again, bowing back into the wonderful feelings awakened in her and felt a hard body, hot and tight against her, a certain part pressing achingly into her rump.

More awake now, Hermione reached her hand back to cup Draco's head and turned hers, bringing their lips together smoothly, slowly, enjoying the lingering feel of his pillow kisses. She sighed into his mouth, content, aroused. He drew her tighter against him so they were connected down to their feet, his hips rolling and pressing his hard member into her lower back and she gasped feeling the size of it, remembering the feel of it stretching her.

The hand beneath her crept lower and pressed one long digit between her legs and she shifted slightly to give him more access, his legs pressing hers apart. She moaned softly as he found her hood and massaged it, sending bolts of electricity through her, exciting her, bringing out a newfound desire. She couldn't help it, every time this man touched her she fell apart. She was completely under his power.

Her hips began to move against his hand, wanting more. He stimulated her, rubbing that sensitive nub faster and faster and she grew wetter and wetter, begging him silently to end her suffering. Sounds tore from her throat as he continued to kiss her, his movements unhurried except for the finger making her lose her mind. She couldn't understand why he didn't slide his fingers down, stretch her open, but his movements continued, holding her in place as she writhed beneath his ministrations, her body winding up.

She came so quickly, so unexpectedly, that she lost her voice and her body stiffened, her nails dug, every muscle tense. He worked her through it as she came down, his movements slowing, drawing out the delicious sensations still gliding through her body.

 _"Oh,"_ she gasped, her voice conveying her shock. He chuckled softly, knowingly, his teeth nipping her ear and sending shivers down her spine. Finally he allowed two fingers to slide into her dripping folds, massaging the sensitive skin there and she jerked into his hands, the sensations making her eyes roll. This slow, tantalizing destruction of her body was more than she could bear.

He hushed her gently and the hand splayed across her ribs to still her moved south, taking in her succulent form, tracing every curve. He weighed her ample bottom, enjoying it, before grabbing her thigh and lifting her leg over his, shifting her up slightly so he could wend his second hand between them and slip his clever fingers straight into her core. She jerked, her body on fire as one hand rubbed her sensitive folds and the other worked its way into her, faster and faster, her body writhing in pleasure.

"Oh, Draco," she moaned, her voice catching as he murmured unheard words, his baritone washing over her, adding to the fuel. His lips worked her neck, slick with sweat, as she grabbed at any piece of him she could, her nails ripping his skin which only spurred him on. She lost track of time and space as waves of euphoria took her over and over and over until it broke and she was screaming, the world shattering and in an instant he plunged into her, stretching her, sending her straight back over the edge until she couldn't catch her breath, every hard stroke pushing her further and deeper into oblivion. He wrapped her into his arms and her hands caught purchase on the bed to keep her still as he pounded into her, his grunts exciting her.

"Oh gods, Hermione," he cried and he thrust into her straight to the hilt, jerking against her and sending her overwrought body spiraling once more.

Her moans met his, muffled in the pillow beneath her as he slowly continued to move, easing them both back to the earth before he collapsed onto his back, bringing her with him, her arm thrown over his chest, their bodies half twisted, still connected in the most intimate way.

Dazed, she was slightly shocked to hear herself chuckling softly. Draco turned his head to her, a grin plastered on his face.

"Have I amused you, Miss Granger?" he panted, more calm and happy than she'd ever seen him.

"You've done something to me, although I'm not entirely sure what that is," she laughed back.

He leaned over, kissing her sweaty forehead before lazily taking her lips. "I think you do."

She looked into his eyes, so deep, so mysterious. She felt so fortunate to be the one he allowed to see past his barriers and into the greater man beneath. She recalled his heartbreaking admissions from the night before and her heart swelled with pride and-

Love.

She tampered down the swift punch of panic, attempting to stay in the moment. She would dwell on it later when she was alone, staring at the ceiling of her four-poster as she always had when thoughts of Draco would arise.

Not betraying her outlandish realization, she kissed him gently, telling him without words what she'd discovered.

They lay there for a while, kissing slowly, touching softly, still tangled together. He was playing lazily with her hair when her eyebrows contracted.

"Draco, what time is it?"

Instantly numbers blazed before her face as the room replied to her request: 11:37.

"Sweet Merlin!" she screamed, leaping from the bed, disoriented and terrified. "Get up, get dressed! _Now!"_

"What in the name of-"

"We should have been at breakfast _hours_ ago, everyone will notice we're not there-"

"Hermione, slow down, it's fine-"

"No it isn't, it isn't, McGonagall was _not_ happy with my last minute request to stay and I know she's going to be keeping an eye on me and if she sees you gone as well then-"

"Hermione, stop, for fucks sake calm down!" He grabbed her arms as she was halfway through yanking her arms into her Oxford.

"No one is going to think anything of this," he said calmly, halting her spluttering attempts to argue. "No one. There is not a teacher in the damnable place who knows I'm here besides Snape, and he's not ratting me out. You slept in, big deal, like anyone here would be shocked you're pulling over-nighters worrying about some silly exam or other. Relax."

Taken aback, she nodded and he slackened his grip, though she didn't continue dressing. "How come the teachers don't know you're here? And how did they not miss you on the platform with everyone else?"

"Snape used a Polyjuice Potion to imitate me. For all the others know I'm home with mommy dearest."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't want Snape's help?"

He shrugged. "Figured since he was bound to I might as well take what I can get. I told him if I let him do this one thing he'd have to leave me alone about it for a while."

She snorted. "Can't imagine he was too happy with the prospect."

"He wasn't, but he didn't have a choice. He made the Vow."

She nodded. "Who…who else knows about it?"

His face turned to stone, the reaction she'd been hoping to avoid now that they were closer.

"No one. And do not ask me about it again."

How could he turn so cold so fast? Especially after what they'd just shared? "Draco, I know there are others, Harry saw two girls-"

 _"Are you three following me?"_

"No! Of course not! I mean Harry, maybe, sort of, but that's just because he's worried-"

"And what about you? Worried I might be just as evil as Potter deems me to be?"

"Of course not, I know you-"

"Do you?"

"Yes," she snapped, harshly, meeting his gaze. "I do. I know you a good bit better than anyone else in this world you damn well know it!"

His gaze faltered, then slowly softened infinitesimally. "Yes. I guess you do. So since you know me so well you'll understand how important it is when I beg you, please, do not get involved."

They stared at each other and she could see the depth of anguish behind his eyes again, just as she'd seen last night. Her head was screaming at her not to give in, to keep pushing until he relented, divulging all of the details of his obviously horrible mission. She knew that whatever it was, if he succeeded, could very possibly bring their side down. What if Harry was in danger? What if his mission was to kill him? Kidnap him, hand him over to Voldemort? Could she live the rest of her life knowing she hadn't tried to stop it?

But she knew, now, looking at him wretched and pleading, that if she pushed she would lose him forever. And she knew she could never live with herself if she lost him. She loved him. She needed him. And right now, he needed her. Maybe, if she was patient, she could win him over. But not today.

"Alright," she relented, wondering for the hundredth time if she was indeed selling her soul to Hades himself. "Alright, Draco. I'll drop it. But only if you listen to me for one minute, just the one."

He clenched his jaw, but she knew she had him. "Go on."

"Whatever it is you have to do, I know that it will hurt us. My side. I am putting all of my friends and family in your hands. Right now. I am trusting you. This is more than you and me; it's more than what is between us, as wonderful as this thing is. This is my future, _our_ future. I told you last night that you couldn't lose me, that I was with you no matter what, and I stand by that still. I always will. Whatever you choose, I will be here. No matter what may come."

He grabbed her hands, sighing, and brought them to his lips. His eyes closed and he held her there for just a moment before looking at her.

"And I will do everything in my power to protect you. No matter what may come."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione spent a restless vacation trying to keep herself occupied and not stalk Draco. He had her meeting him every evening for steamy hookups and she forced herself not to ask him about his task. It seemed he was hiding in the Room of Requirement during his illicit stay over the holiday and did not join the very few others at meals and she never saw him roaming the halls. She wondered how he was getting around to work on his mission but dared not ask. He always seemed to be brooding when she arrived but his face would turn up as soon as he saw her and she couldn't bear to ruin his mood. She had no idea the horrors he was dealing with so left them on the other side of the door when she entered. She needed the peace away from her own terrifying thoughts as it was.

"I wonder what it would be like," she murmured tiredly one evening as they lay curled in the aftermath of a rather intense interlude.

"Hmm?"

"If we could, you know…be like this. Out in the open."

His hand which had been drawing soft spirals on her forearm stilled. He twined their fingers and kissed her forehead.

"It would be perfect."

She still sighed and smiled when she thought about it, making Madame Pince look at her as if she were mental.

She spent most of her time in the library, surrounded by books, buried in the research she had promised McGonagall she was intent on doing and thus felt compelled to stay true to her word since she knew the woman was suspicious. She'd found nothing on the Gaunts except for a brief description of the births and deaths in a genealogy which was severely lacking in both detail and accuracy according to Harry's tales.

The evening before the others were to arrive she hurried up to the seventh floor and slipped inside the awaiting door. When she entered she gasped, her hands coming to her mouth. She had literally just left the Gryffindor common room, why in the world was she walking back _into_ it?!

She turned to Malfoy who was grinning sheepishly by the fireplace which looked exactly like the true version, down to the latest house cup gleaming on the mantle. "Do you like it?"

"But why-?"

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Draco looked at the floor. "Well, you mentioned before, you know, about wishing we could be together, er, 'out in the open' like." His feet shuffled nervously and he still couldn't meet her gaze. "You know we can't, you know, _actually,_ but I thought maybe this would make it kind of seem like it…"

Suppressing a smile, Hermione crossed her arms. "Draco Malfoy, are you blushing?"

He scowled. "No."

"Yes, you are! You're blushing!"

"I am not-"

She laughed and ran over to him, jumping in his arms. He was so startled that he barely had time to catch her.

"You are so sweet, Draco Malfoy. I never would have guessed you were a romantic!"

"I'm not-!"

She halted his protest by kissing him hard. "You are. And I love it." She kissed him again, deeper this time. "This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you."

The blush began to lower and he smiled. "You're welcome."

She took his mouth and locked her legs tighter around him, pressing against him wantonly. He growled into her mouth and turned her, slamming her into the wall so hard she lost her breath. She loved it when he was like this, so crazy for her that he lost control. He plundered her mouth, obviously forgiving her little tease, and shoved his hand between them, rubbing her over her jeans.

"You know how I hate these damnable things," he grunted, whipping out his wand and magicking them away. She gasped as the cool air hit her already dripping nether regions but he remedied the situation quickly by covering her with his hand, ramming his fingers into her and sending her straight over the edge, so fast and so hard that she could do nothing more than cling to him, spasming in the aftermath.

But he never gave her time to recover, as he rarely did, and drove straight into her, so hard it was nearly painful, just the way she liked it. And he knew it.

"Never been fucked in your precious common room, have you," he growled, slamming into her again so that she gasped. She shook her head, unable to form the words.

"Never thought about defiling this sacred room, did you? Bet you feel dirty now, violating it with a Slytherin?" He bit her neck sending electricity shooting through her. She grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck roughly making him growl. "You want it rough, don't you? The good little girl likes it rough, doesn't she?" He slammed into her harder at that so that she squealed.

"Yes, Draco, _yes!"_

He whipped her around and shoved her so that she was bending over the nearest settee and he thrust into her from behind, filling her, making her cry out. When his hand cracked lightly against her rear she arched in protest.

"Nu uh uh, Miss Granger," he said, pushing her head back down gently. "You've been a bad girl. You need your punishment, don't you?"

"Y-yes," she said, unsure of how she felt about this type of role play. But when his hand came down again just slightly harder than last time, he followed it with a sharp thrust that had her careening back towards that peak.

 _"Oh,"_ she moaned when he did it again, harder, and again.

"Hmm, Miss Granger, you seem to be enjoying this. It is supposed to be punishment, after all. Maybe I should stop?"

"No!" she begged. "Please, I-I've been very bad, I n-need…"

He stopped, buried fully in her, and ran his hands up her sides to cup her breasts as he leaned down and his lips came to her ear. "What do you need, Miss Granger?"

She shivered when he nipped her lobe. "You. I need you, Draco."

He squeezed her breasts tighter, rolling his hips against her and nibbled her shoulder. "And who else do you need?"

"No one," she gasped. "No one."

He bit her hard enough that she gasped. "Damn right."

With that he began pounding into her, so fast and so hard that she had to cling to the couch to stay stable, wails of pleasure keening from her throat. He grabbed her hair and pulled it back so that she was arching, her head against his shoulder.

"Say my name," he grunted into her ear, never slowing, his hot breath on her neck.

"Draco."

"Again!"

"Draco!"

"LOUDER!"

 _"DRACO!"_

His hips rode hers in a flurry and immediately shoved them both over the edge, both of them bucking against the intensity as he screamed her name into the night. He slumped over her, one arm around her stomach, holding them flush together, the other one searching out her fingers, linking them, his hot cheek resting on her shoulder as they fought for breath.

She loved that he could do this, go from wildly fucking her to softly loving her in an instant. She turned her face to kiss him, giggling when she was obstructed by a riot of curls. Chuckling softly he used his face in an attempt to nudge the tangled mess aside but to no avail. Giving up, they kissed through her hair, punctuated by laughter.

With a loud groan of exhaustion he pulled her down and they sprawled contentedly on the floor where they landed. She couldn't help the grin plastered on her face as she turned to Draco who was looking at her, as sated as she.

And Hermione was happy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She woke up in the room Draco had spent his winter vacation in to soft kisses. She stirred sleepily and returned the gesture, anticipating a lazy morning tumble.

"Mmm, keep kissing me like that and we won't make it in time," he murmured. "Come on, wake up, there's something I want to show you."

"Hmm?"

She opened her bleary eyes and realized he was not in bed with her, but standing beside her, fully dressed in thick winter robes. He rubbed her back in an attempt to rouse her.

"What-?"

"Shh, don't ask, it's a surprise. Come on, I don't want to miss it."

He dragged her out of bed and helped her dress, his hands lingering on her naked body before wrapping her in heavy robes she recognized as her own, pulled gloves over her hands, boots onto her feet, and adjusted her hair so that it would not get caught as he tugged a hat over her head.  
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her out into the corridor and alarms went off in Hermione's head.

"Draco, this is dangerous, we shouldn't be out here-"

"It's fine, no one is up."

"Surely Filch is patrolling!"

He snorted. "That old bat? He hasn't worried me for years."

"Pardon me, but I believe he was the one who caught you sneaking around during Slughorn's party!"

"Only because I let him."

Hermione stopped, Draco's arm nearly ripping from its socket when it was jerked back from her sudden movement.

 _"Let him?"_ she hissed, confused. "Why on earth would you _let him?"_

"I had thought that was obvious." Once again, Draco looked to his feet, embarrassed by his compassionate actions. "To rescue you from McLaggen."

Stunned, Hermione shook her head. "Why?"

"Because I couldn't stand the idea of him touching you."

She was shocked by the admission. To know that he risked detention in an effort to release her from McLaggen's mauling touched her more than she could admit.

"Thank you," she whispered, standing on her tip toes to kiss him and their lips lingered softly. Suddenly aware that they were standing in the middle of the corridor, Hermione persisted.

"But Draco really, what if someone catches you?" she glanced around nervously. She realized that she was no longer worried about getting caught and possibly getting detention or worse, having one of her teachers ashamed of her; she was worried about the possibility of Draco being caught.

"You'll be expelled or worse…"

He chuckled, taking her hand again and tugging her along. "Quit worrying, mother, I've wandered these halls enough to know when they're being monitored. No one is searching for students this early in the morning."

"What time is it?" she asked, seeing the sky out of the high windows just beginning to lighten.

"Early."

"But-"

"Hush!"

Dismayed, she followed along, not letting him know that she was actually burning with curiosity. She kept her eyes peeled and protested wildly when he led her straight to the thick oak doors.

"Draco, _no,"_ she whispered harshly, trying to pull him back. "Someone will see us!"

"No one is going to see us!"

Much stronger, he led her through the unlocked doors and out into the biting cold.

"Draco, really, it's dangerous-"

"Honestly, I don't know how Potter got into as much trouble as he did. I would have given up years ago just to stop your nagging!"

She glared at him, but silently forgave him when she saw the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. Silently.

"Very funny. But seriously-"

"You know, we'd be much sneakier if you weren't making so much damn noise."

She fumed.

"Just relax, please. Look around you. We're the only ones awake. No one else. Just us."

She looked around anxiously but saw nothing suspicious. He was right, nothing else stirred but the icy wind, no sound was made but the crunching of their boots in the snow. Still, she kept her eyes peeled and her hand on her wand in her pocket.

They walked for a long time, Draco silently erasing their footsteps behind them. He took her down to the lake and around, much further than students were allowed. They strolled in easy silence, Hermione relaxing the further they went, sure no one had thought to patrol this far out when it was so early and so cold, and surely no one could see them from the castle any longer. She enjoyed watching the world rouse slowly to join them, the rustle of leaves in the forest, the shadows slinking back against the coming day.

When she was certain they were on the complete opposite side of the lake Draco led her into the forest and helped her up a hill, their feet sliding in the snow. They moved deeper and deeper into the trees, the incline steepening until she was panting. Merlin, she was out of shape!

At long last he tugged her to the top and wrapped her in his arms while they caught their breath.

"Close your eyes," he whispered. She did as she was told and he turned her back towards the way they'd come and curled his arms around her protecting her from biting cold.

He kissed her neck then rested his cheek against hers. "Open."

She gasped and the hands that would have come to her mouth but were hindered by his embrace clenched his arms instead. Words could not describe the beauty of the scene laid out before her, a landscape visible through a perfectly placed gap in the branches of the trees where gently twinkling stars were fading beneath the brilliant purples, pinks, and oranges bursting from the sun still hidden beneath the hills. The castle was silhouetted in stark contrast the spectacular sky, the windows seeming to catch fire. The grounds glittered silver-white around it and below them the iced over lake was dark and beckoning. It was the most beautiful she'd ever seen the place she'd called home for so many years and it took her breath away.

"Thank you," she breathed for the second time that morning, the air misting before her. He hugged her tighter in response and they stood there a long while watching the sun slowly rise.

Eventually Draco lowered them to the ground, casting an Impervious Charm against the snow. Hermione snuggled between his legs and enjoyed the feel of his arms around her, taking in this moment, memorizing every detail so that she could bring it to mind later when the world would intrude once more.

"I used to dream about bringing you here," Draco murmured softly, the morning almost too still and innocent for sound. "I wondered what it would be like to know that you felt the same about me, to be able to share a moment like this with you. After all I'd done I knew there was no chance…"

He sighed, pressing his forehead into her shoulder and she tightened her hold on him. "If there wasn't a war I wouldn't have cared what my friends thought or if my parents disinherited me or if my entire house turned against me, I would have made you mine."

Hermione's heart stopped in her chest, she was frozen by his admission.

"None of it would have mattered to me; I want you to know that. You are worth more than all of them. The only reason we have to do this, sneak around, play this game, is to protect you. I can't put you in danger any more than I already have. What we're doing is impossible. But it's true."

Moved, she rested her cheek against him. "It is, Draco. I would have never dreamed something like this would happen to me, and especially not with you. What were the chances a prestigious Pureblood would look twice at a lowly Mudblood? Especially _the_ Pureblood looking at _the_ Mudblood. But you did." She sighed. "I have been invisible my whole life. And then you saw me."

He turned her just enough so that he could cup her face in his hands and his eyes found hers. "You'll never be invisible again. I see you, Hermione, and what I see floors me every single day. You're the only thing that keeps me going anymore. Only you."

They made love, right there in the open, not hidden behind walls. They shared their love with the trees and the earth bore witness to their admissions. Right in that place where they were hidden but did not hide, where they were protected by the world which tore them apart.

But time invaded and they were forced to head back to their lives, their roles, to don their armor and guard their tired hearts. At the edge of the forest he kissed her one last time, lingering, and watched as she hurried back to the castle where she ran straight up to her dormitory and embraced her best friend with love and enthusiasm.

And their game began again.

XXXXXXXXXX

XOXO  
RynStar15


	6. Chapter VI

Hermione felt like she was losing her mind.

The weeks were flying by, each bringing more problems, more questions, more heartache. Schoolwork was unending, Harry so busy with other issues she was picking up his slack once more. She worried over her Apparition test, Harry's task to get the memory from Slughorn, trying to deter him from spying on Draco, and her crazy emotions over Ron being poisoned. It had struck her like a dagger to the heart and she realized that the time she spent with Draco had not diminished her feelings for Ron, only dampened them momentarily. She loved Draco truly, but she loved Ron as well…when he wasn't being a prat.

She remembered how she had felt standing over him, seeing his pale face, realizing that he might not have made it had it not been for that _stupid_ Prince book. And here she'd been ignoring him for months, over what? The same thing she was sharing with Draco? And wasn't that a joke, seeing how miserable he was with Lavender. She sighed, knowing he was only going through the motions to get to her and was now so deep in he didn't know what to do. She pitied him, even though she still felt a small stab of loathing at the thought of him kissing that slag. If Ron had seen what she'd been through with Draco…

She felt her anger slowly melting away as he recovered and they slowly made their way back to their old bickering selves and Hermione had to admit that it was much better than trying to ignore him. Besides, she needed all the help she could get to get through to Harry. He was probably the only person as strung out as she, dealing with his lessons with Dumbledore and trying to get the memory and following Draco on the Marauder's map and realizing his feelings about Ginny…not that he'd ever admit it.

And then she saw what the time was doing to Draco. He looked gaunter than ever and had stopped seeking her out for anything more than a glance across the Great Hall or a brush in the hallway. He'd only met up with her once and it had been hurried and not at all as though he remembered their intimate Christmas.

He had ignored her last request and she was growing worried. It was too dangerous now to try to get his attention as Harry had taken to watching the map obsessively and she couldn't chance him seeing them together. So she clung on to their words and focused on the tasks at hand. Horcruxes, Slughorn, Apparation…

The days flew in a haze and the more they found out, the more terrified she became. Seven Horcruxes. And only two were gone. How would they ever find them?

They'd learned Draco was using Polyjuice Potion on Crabbe and Goyle, using the Room of Requirement for his task which would hide his secrets so deep they'd never find out what it was. And by his volatile behavior she couldn't figure out if he was getting closer to succeeding or meeting the wrath of Voldemort by failing…

And now she was sitting in the common room worrying her hands as Ron told her how Harry had come crashing in begging for his potions book, covered in blood…

Time stood still when Harry burst in minutes later, white and shaking, still covered in blood, and recounted what had happened, his eyes wide in fear. Terror seeped through her body as she repeatedly asked how he was, if Draco had made it, all that blood on Harry…

She knew she was picking a fight, knew she was making the others livid, acting the Devil's Advocate, but she couldn't stop herself. Anger at Harry such as she'd never felt before flared up inside her and it took all of her will to stamp it down lest they become suspicious.

Her fury, fear, and worry caused her to snap and she did something she had never done before in her life.

While the other three were busy abusing her and arguing about the book she took their lack of attention and slipped her hand into Harry's bag which was resting near her right foot and curled her hands around the two items in the front pocket she knew would be there. Using the Invisibility Cloak to her advantage, she hid the map beneath it and pushed both underneath the side table next to her on the pretext on scratching her ankle.

She waited until everyone was in their beds, her heart pounding, wondering if Harry would notice, and sneaked down to the empty common room to fish the cloak and map out. She couldn't chance Harry seeing her on the map that night or anyone catching her where she was going. She slipped out of the portrait hole and stood still as the Fat Lady roused and slowly fell back to sleep, unaware of what had woken her.

Dashing through the halls, Hermione tore up to the hospital wing and eased silently into the room where a lone bed was occupied, soft moonlight filtering over bright blonde locks. Assessing her surroundings and pressing her ear against the office where Madam Pomfrey was snoring loudly, she crept to his side.

He looked wretched, skeletal, pale, his normally shiny strands limp and oily, as if he had not been taking care of himself. She saw a bright red mark across his cheek and down his chest where the blanket did not cover it, a clear gel making the slash stand out.

Not able to help herself, Hermione brushed his long hair off his forehead, her fingers lingering against his cool skin. She exhaled in relief. He was alive. Surely sore, but breathing and healing.

She gasped when his eyes snapped open and his hand came out, yanking her down onto him with a snarl.

"Shhh, Draco, it's okay, it's alright!" she cried as he attempted to pin her, his actions far too weak. He started to yell but she untangled a hand and slapped it over his mouth, yanking down the cloak from her face.

"Draco, it's me, shh!" she hushed, shuddering at the terrifying look in his glazed eyes. "It's alright, it's me, you're safe."

Shock overtook the bloodlust in his gaze and he shot back away from her, banging against the headboard, shouting, and causing a ruckus.

"Draco, calm down, it's a cloak," she explained, removing it from the rest of her body only to dive back beneath it when the nurse crashed into the room.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?" she asked, hurrying over.

"I'm fine, I've told you you damnable woman, now leave me alone!" he growled, picking up a water glass beside him and chucking it at her.

Huffing, she threw up her hands and turned on her heel, cursing as Hermione had never heard her do. She slammed the door shut behind her, going on about "that ungrateful beast."

Heart pounding at her close call she waited a few seconds to be sure the nurse wouldn't return before pulling down the cloak once more and casting a _Mufflaito!_ on the office door. Rage filled Draco's features.

"What the hell are you trying to do, get yourself murdered?" he snapped. "If I'd had my wand-"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, I wasn't going to wake you at all, I just had to see you-"

"And get us both caught? Where the hell did you get that thing?" he asked, nodding at the cloak.

"I'm not going to answer that," she muttered, slightly miffed at his behavior.

"Fair enough," he said with a curt nod. "Why are you here?"

"You know why, I had to see you, be sure you're alright."

"I'm certain the headmaster would have informed you by now if your precious Potter's spell had done its job properly," he answered bitterly.

She paled. "Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry, he didn't mean-"

 _"Don't you dare defend that sonofabitch to me!"_ he growled menacingly. "If Snape hadn't shown up when he did I'd be DEAD!"

She started, this animalistic demeanor frightening her. "I know, I'm not defending him, I swear! What he did was wrong, very, _very_ wrong, and you have every right to be angry. I was so frightened when he told us, Draco, you have no idea! But you have to know that he had no idea what that spell would do or else he _never_ would have used it! He's not a murderer!"

"Could have fooled me! Do you see this?" He sat up fully with an obvious grimace showing the deep wound extending from his belly up his chest and neck and onto the right cheek.

Tears sprang to her eyes as the reality of the situation crashed down upon her. If Professor Snape hadn't been there…

His gaze softened when he saw her reaction and went to cover himself back up, but she stopped him, wanting to see. Her hands trembled as she touched his chest on either side of the gash, far enough away to not cause him pain, and a muffled sob escaped her tightly sealed lips.

"I don't know what I'd do if…" she sniffed, and tried to control herself, knowing he needed her to be strong.

He sighed, his head falling back and his face lifting to the ceiling. "Fuck, Hermione."

And finally, after months of wondering if he still felt the same, he dragged her into his arms and she broke down, overcome with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry," she apologized for her friend. "He didn't know, I swear, and it was s-stupid, so stupid, but he _wouldn't,_ and you have every r-right to be angry and h-hate him and hate m-me-"

"Stop," he shushed gently, stroking her hair. "You know I don't hate you. I know I've been a right prat lately but nothing has changed with us. I've just been…busy. It's not your fault what Potter did and I trust you if you say he didn't know what the spell meant, the bloody idiot. But you can't ask me to forgive him."

"I w-won't, I understand," she said, so happy for his reassuring words. "I've just missed you so much and then this…"

"Shh, I'm fine, alright? Now quit crying, I can't stand how much you Gryffindors blubber over every damn thing."

She shot up to yell at him but recognized the mischievous glint in his eye. "You're evil, you," she said, but couldn't help the lifting of the corners of her mouth. "Careful now, or I'll curse you too, and you know damn well I know what the spells are!"

He chuckled then winced in pain and her hands fluttered, trying to get him to lay back, stammering about pain potions and hugging him too tight.

"Get off me you blasted witch!" he cried good humorously. "Merlin, between you and that vulture in there I'll be smothered to death by morning!"

"Being as big of an arse as you are you're lucky to get help at all!"

Grinning, he captured her lips and dragged her back to him, plundering. "Gods, I've missed you," he groaned, grabbing her hand and placing it on his already throbbing erection. "Take care of me, Nurse Granger?"

She gasped. "Draco, you're horrible, not in here!"

He groaned in misery, keeping her hand in place and lifting into it. "That old hag won't be back and I've missed you. Besides, how can you deny me when I so nearly lost my life?"

"Draco!" she gasped. "You're terrible, you can't possibly-"

"Oh I can," he said, taking her lips again. She couldn't stop the moan that escaped her at his eagerness as it had been far too long for her as well. Propriety warred within her, as it often did when confronted with him, but she quickly lost the battle as his hand crept up her skirt and rubbed her over her panties.

"Already wet for me, good girl," he breathed, circling her clit, making her jump. Her hand was now moving of its own accord over the sheet and his other hand sought her sweater clad breast. "Gods, I've spent too many nights thinking about you."

She nodded, too overcome already to form the words. Her hips rose jerkily against him and she yanked off his sheet, needing to feel that silky flesh beneath as she began to pump him, making him as crazy as she was. She glanced to the office but he brought her attention back to him by sneaking his fingers beneath her skirt and driving them into her. She gasped, startled at how much that small movement affected her. It had _definitely_ been too long.

But she could see already how tired he was from their short interaction and knew she wouldn't be able to deter him. Knowing she needed to make it quick so as to keep him in as little pain as possible, she shoved his hand aside and bent over, taking him fully into her mouth and making him hiss and buck against her.

"Merlin, Hermione!" he moaned. She knew now what he liked and she gave it to him, loving how he jerked when she swirled her tongue over his head. Only when he was nice and worked up did she stand and remove her panties, dropping them to the floor, still listening for the nurse. She pressed him back gently and straddled him, knowing how much he loved when she did this. He groaned like a dying man as she lowered herself slowly onto him, letting him feel every centimeter of her tight passage. She bit her lip and at the feel of him stretching her, the tight pinch that told her how long she'd waited.

When she was fully sheathed she leaned forward and plucked at his lips wantonly, his hands coming to her thighs, reaching around to her backside to enjoy the feel.

"No one in this world knows what a devil you are except for me," he growled, giving her bottom a squeeze as she rolled her hips around, feeling him at every angle. She pulled up her shirt and bra, exposing her breasts, loving how his eyes lit up when he looked at her.

She took him quickly, wishing she could stay there forever but knowing that he was much more exhausted than he let on. She rode him, his hands helping her pound onto him, bouncing, slamming harder onto him with every stroke.

"Oh, fuck love, that's it, just like that," he panted, sweat beading at his brows. She felt him thrusting against her sweet spot and even as she tried to focus on his pleasure she could feel her own mounting. She couldn't help the moans that fell from her as she braced herself on his headboard, smacking back down onto him, loving the sounds that reverberated through the empty room.

"Fuck yes, that's it, come on love, come with me-"

At his words it crashed through her and she tightened around him, milking him, making him howl as he slammed her down onto him, shoving him violently over the edge.

As her orgasm waned she slowed her movements and longed to rest against him but could see the pain behind his eyes. Instead, she lifted herself off him and cleaned them both with a wave of her wand and took a seat beside him. She didn't fuss, didn't lecture him, though it burned through her to do so, she simply grabbed the potion sitting on his table and pressed it into his hand, leaning down to kiss his sweaty brow.

"I've missed you," she whispered, brushing his hair from his face, stroking his cheek.

"And I you."

"Sleep now," she breathed, kissing him long and hard. "I'll check on you tomorrow."

He shook his head, holding her hand to his cheek. "Don't. It's too dangerous now. Don't seek me out. I'm glad you came tonight but do not owl me, do not try to see me. Promise me."

The darkness that overcame him frightened her, but she nodded, swallowing hard.

"Draco…"

He shook his head and she knew. She could feel the tears welling again but told herself to hold them back. She leaned down for one last kiss and he held her a little too hard, a little too long.

She failed, she couldn't help it. She knew whatever it was he had to do it was close at hand and a harsh sob escaped against his lips. He said nothing, just pulled her tighter, stroking her tears away. When he finally pulled her away, his hands in her hair, his pained eyes bored into her.

"No matter what may come."

She nodded, the tears blurring his face, and kissed his palm, looking at him for just one moment before leaving quickly, whipping the cloak over her as she ran, not sure of where she was going, bursting into an empty classroom where she cast a quick silencing spell and wailed into the night.

XXXXXXXXX

Infuriated once again at Harry's insistence about the Half-Blood Prince being a male even after she'd showed him the article, Hermione stomped her way up to the library. She'd had about as much as she could take of that boy lately; he was driving her right mad!

And though she should be used to it by now, she cried out in fear as an invisible arm shot out and grabbed her elbow, dragging her into a broom closet.

"Shh, it's me."

"Of course it is," she huffed as she straightened herself, trying to find footing in the cluttered space. Her indignation was short lived however when she looked into his face and the bottom dropped out from her stomach.

"Draco, no…"

"It's going to be tonight," he said roughly. He looked worse that she'd ever seen him, sick, his features twisted.

"What is? Draco, please-"

"No, listen to me, there isn't much time," he said, grabbing her shoulders a little too rough, the expression on his face too wild. "Get out. Don't trust anyone. Just get out of here."

"I will not!" she snapped, her fury rising. "Whatever it is you intend to do I will fight with the rest of them! I will fight you, Draco!"

 _"Stop!"_ he cried as she shoved his arms away, grabbing for her wand. He tackled her, pinning her arms so she couldn't curse him. "Look at me, look at me, dammit!"

"No, Draco, I thought you had changed, I thought maybe, after everything, but you haven't. And I can't let you do this!"

"Hermione, stop fighting, listen to me!"

Her struggles were useless, even as ill as he looked he was much too strong and he overtook her easily even as she kicked and bucked, attempting to throw him off. With buckets and mops and bottles falling around them they wrestled and she screamed in utter agony knowing that the man she loved was trying to murder her friends and she was the only one who knew, the only one who could stop him…

They ended up on the floor somehow, Hermione on her back, her arms twisted over her head, his rough hands gripping her wrists tight and his strong thighs on either side of her hips, pinning her down. She was sobbing, she realized, and looked up at him through streaming eyes and plastered hair.

"Please, whatever it is you've done, please…"

"Listen to me, Hermione," he panted. "You're wrong. I have changed. Everything's changed. But it's more complicated than that."

"You could stop this, whatever it is, you could just stop and come to our side, we'll protect you!" she sobbed.

"I couldn't stop this even if I tried, it's already done, it's been building all year. I've done all I can to be sure you guys will be alright. Dumbledore will be leaving tonight; he often takes a drink down in Hogsmead. There are extra guards patrolling, several members of the Order will be stationed. I'll be alerted as soon as he enters Hogsmead, it will happen then. Make sure everyone is ready, but not until then. You mustn't blow your cover, you know nothing. Do you understand?"

"No, Draco, I don't, what is going to happen, what have you done?" Fear such as she'd never known was crawling through her as she realized that she'd severely underestimated her opponent. This was sounding so much bigger than she'd ever imagined…

He sighed, his eyes closing beneath the weight of his deeds. "Death Eaters will be here tonight. There is something I must do and they are here as my guard to be sure it gets done. I won't tell you what, you'll find out soon enough. The only thing I am going to tell you is to find Snape. Find Snape. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes," she breathed, the enormity of what he'd just told her stealing her voice. "But, why-"

He shook his head. "I can't, I can't tell you, please don't make me," he croaked. "I'm doing everything I can and I know it's not enough but it's all I can do."

He was holding back tears as well and Hermione knew that what he was saying was true. He had changed; he was trying to help them. In doing so he was putting his life on the line. If she stopped him now it might be his death sentence. Whatever terrible thing was put in place, it had to ride out.

She just had to be sure to protect those she loved and the rest of the children in this school while it happened.

She took a deep breath, not knowing if what she was doing was right or wrong. She was completely torn, but it was time for action, and she had to choose.

"Alright, Draco," she relented. "I told you before that I trust you and we are in your hands. It stands now. I will do everything I can to help you and help us, but I won't do anything to put you in danger. I won't say anything, I swear. What do you want me to do when I find Professor Snape?"

"Nothing, do not let him know you are following him. Just trust him, do as he says. Promise me."

She nodded, resolute. "Okay. I promise."

He sighed, relief evident as he leaned his sweaty brow against hers. "Thank you," he breathed. "I'm so sorry about everything-"

"It's not your fault, you didn't ask for this," she replied, easing her hands out to wrap them around his neck. "I know you'll do the right thing tonight. I know what you have on the line. Take care of yourself; take care of your family. I'll take care of the rest."

He nodded and shuddered. "I'm so scared."

"Oh, Draco." She enfolded him in her embrace as tremors racked through his body. "So am I."

They held each other for an infinite moment before he pulled them to a seated position. "I have to go."

She nodded once more, not trusting her voice, and kissed him deeply, hoping it wouldn't be the last time.

"Be safe," he whispered. "I don't know what will happen to me after tonight, but don't seek me out. I will contact you."

He took something gold and shiny out of his pocket and pressed it into her hand. "Keep this with you, wherever you go. I will call for you when it is safe. Never forget us."

She looked down at the galleon in her hand and her eyes widened. It was exactly like the ones she had made for the D.A.

He pulled her to her feet and kissed her. "Wait a minute after I leave then head straight back to your common room. Do not leave until it is time. You'll know."

She nodded jerkily, throwing herself into his arms, needing to feel him one last time. She breathed in his scent, memorized the feel of his embrace. He pulled her away gently and kissed her.

"Until next time."

"Until then."

He pressed one last kiss to her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers, and then he was gone and she collapsed in grief.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Stay with Flitwick, Luna!" Hermione cried, shaking, staring at her immobile professor. "I'm going to get help!"

She had tried for so long to rouse him but nothing had worked. She'd done what Draco had said, she'd stayed outside Snape's office when the four of them split up, wishing she could be upstairs with Ron waiting for Draco…but she'd done as she'd promised. And when Snape had told her and Luna to take care of their professor, she'd followed his orders.

But something was wrong. Very, very wrong. He hadn't fainted, he'd been hexed, she was sure of it. Why, she didn't know, but she had to find out.

The battle was raging above, she could hear the sounds echoing down the stairs, knew her friends were up there, fighting for their lives and she couldn't sit here any longer trying to take care of Professor Flitwick, his need was out of her hands now. But he was breathing steadily, a good sign, he would survive.

As she raced up to the main hall she heard panicked voices on the steps, voices she recognized all too well…

"-had trusted me-"

"-not with her life, you swore-"

"And how many others, Draco?" Snape screamed as they hit the hall, aiming for the front door.

"What was I supposed to-"

"Draco," she breathed, unbelieving, her knees weak. She wasn't even sure if she'd made a sound but he snapped around, his eyes wild with fear.  
He yanked himself out of Professor Snape's grasp and ran to her.

"Draco, we must go, now!" Snape screamed wildly, striding after him as Draco threw himself into her arms, not seeming to care that their professor was witnessing the entire display.

"Forgive me," he panted in her embrace, his eyes full of terror. "Forgive me."

"Draco, what happened, where are you-"

"We do not have time, Draco, we must leave, now, the Carrows-"

"Get back down to the dungeons," Draco cried, pushing her back from where she came. "Stay there, stay hidden-"

But she fought him, scared of his maniacal behavior. "No, Draco, what's happening, tell me-"

But Snape was upon them, tearing him away, dragging him towards the door, the fear in his black eyes jolting through Hermione.

"I believe I told you to stay with Professor Flitwick, Miss Granger! Go, at once-"

"Please, Hermione, listen to us, go!" Draco begged as he fought the stronger man. "Please-"

"Come, Draco, run!" Snape was screaming as howls of laughter sang overhead. "Granger, back to my office immediately!" He flung his wand and she was flying back, her body smacking against the wall.

Confused, terrified, she started back towards Draco who was still being pulled backwards, his hands fighting the grip Snape had on him.

"Draco-"

"I love you," he mouthed before Snape flicked his wand once more. She screamed as the door behind her gave way and she fell back into the dungeons, the door snapping closed. She cried in fear and horror, scrambling back up to the door and pulling on the handle, but it was locked.

She tried every spell she could think of, kicked and punched and shoved and swore, but the door wouldn't budge. Tears streaming down her face she gripped the handle with both hands and sank to her knees, her forehead leaning against the unyielding wood.

"I love you, too."

XXXXXXXXXXX

It was hours later as Hermione watched the dawn break across the grounds, shivering against the window in her dormitory. She couldn't even process the events of the night, let alone set them aside long enough to sleep.

Dumbledore was dead. That was Draco's mission all along. To kill Dumbledore. But he hadn't done it. Harry had admitted himself that Draco was lowering his wand, he was coming to their side-

She bit back yet another sob, her firsts clenching and her body folding in on itself in silent agony as she didn't want to wake the others in her dorm. She rocked herself knowing how close he'd been to safety, how only a few more moments and he would have been whisked away, safe and sound, hidden with maybe even the Weasleys where he would be protected and taken care of. Where she could see him, help him, be with him…

But now he was gone, Snape had stolen him away. Snape had killed Dumbledore. And he'd taken Draco.

Had it all been part of a plan gone terribly wrong? Had Harry missed something, heard something wrong? Snape had a foul demeanor, but hadn't Dumbledore trusted him?

And now Draco was gone and she had no idea what would become of him, if he would be tortured for Snape having to step in, possibly even murdered for failure…

No, she couldn't think like that. He was fine. He had to be. She couldn't lose him.

And yet guilt ate at her. Could she have stopped all of this long ago? Could she be the reason Dumbledore was dead? Could she have prevented this horrible night from happening, saved Dumbledore, prevented Bill's injuries?

She hugged herself closer, uncertainty digging its claws into her consciousness. Without Dumbledore, their side was heavily wounded. He was the only one who knew about the Horcruxes. And now he was gone. And Harry made she and Ron swear to keep them a secret. And now it was the three of them against Voldemort. Three children who were still learning, who were unsure and frightened and one of which was undoubtedly a traitor.

She swore to herself that night that no matter what happened from here on out, that she would do anything in her power to help their side. It was her life, her friend's lives, on the line. What would happen to her if Voldemort won? Best case scenario she would have her wand snapped and be an outcast. Worst, she didn't even want to think about. And yet mere hours ago, she'd allowed Death Eaters to enter her school, attack her friends, put hundreds of lives at stake for her own selfishness.

Never again.

Resolute, she stared into the night and clenched the silent coin tight in her fist, her heart a few steps behind her head.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

XOXO  
RynStar15


	7. Chapter VII

Hermione gasped and choked on the food in her mouth and her fork clattered to the table at the sharp burn which sang from her pocket. Ignoring her parent's concerned questions she tore from the room, heart hammering, upsetting her chair in her haste. Digging the coin from her pocket as she pounded up the stairs she stumbled several times, not seeming to be able to control her own body anymore. She slammed into her room, the door banging behind her and fell to the floor as her trembling hands brought the still warm coin up to read:

 _Safe. Worried. Feather. Midnight._

The words were bunched around the edge, crammed together in Draco's hurried handwriting. A harsh sob escaped her lips and she clenched the coin tight in her fist and fell forward, relief washing over her.

He was safe. She'd waited over a month in fear as the coin had stayed silent, cold, taunting. A month of long, lonely nights with images of torture and cold grey eyes clawing at her sanity.

When feeling returned to her limbs she clumsily yanked her wand from the sheath wrapped around her waist where she kept it in fear of sudden attack and wrote back:

 _Safe. Anxious. Until then._

Slumping against the side of her bed she allowed herself to close her eyes and for the first time in so long, her tense shoulders sagged and she breathed.

Since the morning after Dumbledore's death she'd been working tirelessly; packing, preparing, researching. She'd read every book about Horcruxes that she'd summoned from the former headmaster's office a half dozen times, attempting to memorize any little bit of knowledge that might help. She taught herself every protection spell, every healing spell she came across. She'd done the incredibly advanced charms on her pretty beaded bag her mother had bought her from a tourist shop in France her after she'd pleaded enough to drive the woman mad. She did small workouts in her room trying to hone her body, to ready her gangly self for battle. Everything was ready at a moment's notice in case Mad-Eye needed to move up her departure date. Even all of her parent's forged documents for their new life were tucked away in a secret compartment in her desk…

And every single moment she'd worried about Draco, wondering where he was, if he was alive, why he hadn't gotten ahold of her by now.  
She shivered in anticipation of feeling his arms around her once more, though the guilt ate at her. She knew with absolute certainty that she couldn't stand not being with him, but she refused to keep secrets about the war from the Order again. She could see him behind closed doors, but she would never endanger her friends again, not even for him.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Minutes to midnight had her sitting at the edge of the bed, legs bouncing nervously, a grey feather that had been dropped onto her bed by an unfamiliar owl hours earlier clenched in her trembling hands.

She smiled, stroking the soft feather, remembering fondly all of the feathers he'd sent her last summer that she'd ignored, angry and betrayed. If she'd only known then what the next year would have in store for her…

She jumped up when the feather glowed blue, her stomach in knots as she felt the familiar tug around her waist and the sensation of spinning rapidly through a tube had her slamming her eyes shut. She landed hard and stumbled, but hands grabbed her before she could hit the ground and pulled her against a hard body that was shaking even worse than hers. She squirmed in his arms, turning just enough to see his face, just for a moment, just to convince herself that it was really, truly him, before throwing her arms around his neck on a heart wrenching sob.

He was talking, but she couldn't hear the words as his voice broke with emotion and she cried unabashedly into his neck. Hands clung, touched, reassuring each other that they were there, they were whole.

He pulled her face back with quaking hands, her hair plastered to her wet cheeks, and stared at her for an infinite moment, relief washing over his emaciated features. He looked sickly, worse than she'd seen, and she started to ask but the words flew out of her head when he crashed his lips against hers, devouring. She sensed his desperation and met it with her own as they plundered lips and breathed life back into each other. Hermione's knees buckled but he was there, his strong arms holding her against him, every inch touching.

"I thought you were dead," she croaked against his lips and his grip tightened.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, angling her head to take the kiss deeper.

"I was so scared, Draco."

"So was I."

His fingers dug into the soft skin of her neck as his mouth quickly decimated her. It wasn't enough. She needed more, needed all of him. Their hands trembled and tore at clothing frantically, ripping, pulling. They barely managed to get her pants down, dangling from her left tennis shoe, his around his ankles, before he turned and slammed her into the wall, yanking her legs around him and impaling her, both of them gasping at the sudden contact.

He didn't let her adjust to the fullness of him, just took her, thrusting into her like a piston on, on, driving away her fear, pushing her towards that peak. Sounds tore from her throat as she clung, digging her heels into his backside as his hips whipped against hers, his fingers digging into her skin, pounding. His sweaty head fell to her shoulder and he panted, both of them close.

His name fell from her lips again and again as white heat washed over her, taking her under, taking her away. He groaned and sank into her even harder with sharp jolts as he joined her, barreling over the edge of sanity.

Gasping for breath he sank with her to the floor, using the wall to support for his weak legs. He lay back and settled her on top of him, still connected, saving her from the rough wooden floor. Slowly, their breathing regulated and soft caresses replaced their harried and desperate lovemaking. Hermione listened to the sound of his heart pounding beneath her ear, slowing as they calmed, her eyes closed in bliss. He stroked her hair from her face, his arms tight around her, his head thrown back in respite.

She turned her face up and kissed the underside of his chin, his jaw.

"I've been so worried," she whispered and his hold tightened.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you contact me, even if we couldn't meet, just to let me know you were safe?" she murmured, still slightly hurt by his inconsideration, recalling all the nights she'd laid awake in fear.

He stiffened beneath her, the reaction subtle but it did not escape her notice. "I contacted you the moment I could."

She sat up slightly, her eyebrows drawn. She looked at his face, could see the pain and exhaustion in it, the dark purple half-moons under his eyes. Her heart dropped. "Draco, why haven't you been able to contact me?"

He looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes.

"Draco, what happened?" she demanded, sitting up further and he slid out from underneath her, disconnecting them. She watched his haunted eyes and her heart was breaking.

"No," she breathed, willing it not to be true. "No, Draco, they didn't, they couldn't…"

He sighed and finally looked at her. "Please don't, I'm fine, it was nothing I didn't deserve."

"Don't you say that!" she snapped, tears springing to her eyes. "Don't you sit there and tell yourself that! You didn't deserve any of this; _none_ of this was your fault, Draco!"

"Dumbledore is dead because of me!" he thundered, eyes wide, lank hair falling over his eyes.

She shook her head, reaching her hand out to touch his face but he shied away. "Draco, look at me. Please." He turned, hearing the seriousness in her voice. "Draco, we know it wasn't you who killed him. We know it was Snape."

His eyes widened in almost fear and he paled. "How-?"

"Harry was there. Dumbledore had put him in a Full-Body Bind right before you came up. He was under the Invisibility Cloak I wore to see you in the hospital wing, that's why you never saw him. But he saw you," she said, watching the emotions play over his face as he realized what all of this meant. "None of us blame you, Draco. Not even Harry. They know about the necklace and the poison; we all know you were just doing what you had to do. And we know you weren't going to go through with it. And I'm so sorry, so sorry for what happened, what they made you do."

His face fell when he saw her tears and he reached forward, wiping them away and dragging her into his lap. She held him, wishing she could draw away his pain. He was shaking again and she pulled back to peer into his face so she could see the truth.

"Are you alright?" she asked solemnly. "Did they hurt you?"

He tried to turn away again but she didn't let him. "Draco, you need to be seen, let's go to St. Mungo's-"

He laughed sardonically. "I can't go to St. Mungo's, they'd murder me for even contemplating it. I'm fine. I'll be fine," he rephrased, seeing the disbelief on her face. She brushed back his oily hair and cupped his face.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, knowing her nightmares had been true all along. She'd been lying in a soft bed, warm and safe, while he'd been tortured, beaten, starved. And for what? For not murdering?

"Shh," he hushed her, kissing her softly. "I'm alright now. I'm here."

"How? Why did they let you free?"

"Snape. He appealed for my mother and me. Told Him that he didn't even give me a chance to kill Dumbledore, that he'd done it himself out of anger. He lied to save us."

"Snape?" she asked incredulously.

He nodded. "He saved my life that night. My soul. He kept you safe, hexing Flitwick so you would stay where it was safe to help him. I begged him that night. Begged him to help you, to help me. I knew I couldn't…" his voice trailed off as his voice broke with the memories. "He's the one who sent you the feather tonight, created the Portkey for me. He knows everything about us."

She stiffened in fear, terrified that Snape might use the information against them, if he would turn now that he was no longer bound by the Unbreakable Vow. Draco sensed her fear.

"He'll never tell a soul," he swore. "He's done _everything_ to keep me safe. He knows what it would cost us. But with how heavily I'm being watched now I needed someone to help me. He's covering for me now. I can't stay long. But I had to see you, had to know. I needed to see for myself that you were safe, that they hadn't touched you…"

She shook her head, still reeling with the new information. "No, by the time Snape left the grounds and his spell lifted and I was able to leave the dungeons the battle was all but over. You were gone and Dumbledore…" She swallowed back the painful image. "There was a funeral and they sent us home. I've been safe."

He sighed in relief and hugged her tight. They sat in silence for a long while until he finally kissed her forehead and leaned his cheek against it wearily. "I have to go."

"I know."

They stood and dressed slowly, never straying from arm's reach. They embraced once more and she finally looked around. She recognized the room as the same one he'd brought her to last summer, a sparsely furnished living room with wood walls and floors, moonlight streaming from a bay window and she saw tall trees beyond, a river rushing by silently in the distance.

"Draco, where are we?"

She saw him smile for the first time and although it was small and tired she drank in the sight, realizing how much younger it made him look.

"A summer home in the Forest of Dean my mother's sister used to come to with her Muggle husband. When my mother learned about it she burned it down. I remembered it last year when I was trying to think of a safe place to bring you. No one would ever look here; it was in ruins when I first arrived. But I fixed it up and I assure you that I have placed the heaviest enchantments possible on it. We are the only ones who can enter the grounds."

Her heart skipped a beat and she looked up at him in awe. "You did all this? For us?" she breathed.

He wrapped her hands in his and kissed them gently, closing his eyes. "I knew the very first time I kissed you and felt you kiss me back what this would be. I knew how dangerous it was. But I didn't care. I wanted a place we could call our own, that no one could touch. I know it's not much, but it's ours."

Touched, her heart swelled and once again, tears threatened. She swallowed them back, smiling. "Draco…I don't even know what to say. It's perfect. Thank you."

He shook his head. "It's not enough compared to what you've given me."

She leaned up and kissed him. They lingered as long as they dared but when she finally pulled back she cupped his face and looked into his eyes. "I love you, Draco."

His eyes closed and he seemed to fall into himself, as if the words were too much to bear. "Oh, Hermione. I spent every moment in that hell hole waiting to hear you say that." Nuzzling her hand, he looked at her, his grey eyes calm for the first time in months, brimming with passion. "I love you. Be safe."

And before she could stop him he turned on the spot and with a _crack!_ he Apparated away. Hugging herself from the sudden chill of losing his body heat, she looked around herself, memorizing it, so that she could return safely. Sighing, filled with love and contentment, she Apparated home and slept like the dead.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Locking the Weasley's bathroom door behind her, Hermione leaned against it with a groan. This wedding was more trouble than it was worth, in her opinion. But she knew how important it was to everyone, that precious bit of normalcy, the reminder that even now, there was love. Jealousy burned within her, but she tampered it down. There was no time for that. She had work to do. Tomorrow night they would leave, when everyone was busy celebrating Fleur and Bill's love, they would slip away and their hunt would begin. She knew what it would entail, knew how dangerous their mission was. Suicidal.

Heart heavy, she dug out the coin in her pocket, thumbing it lovingly. It depicted a regular galleon again, his last message having faded after she'd read it. They tried to keep in contact daily but it wasn't always possible. The small reassurances were enough. Wherever he was, he was safe, he was alive. He was thinking about her, missing her as much as she missed him. It was enough.

She tapped the coin with her wand and etched out her message:

 _Safe. Midnight. Important. Love._

As always, she wished there was more room on the coin, but was content knowing he understood. An hour later she had to sneak away from polishing silver candlesticks (which she'd done yesterday) to hastily read his reply before Molly caught her slacking:

 _Safe. Until then. Love._

She sighed with relief that he was able to meet her, knowing it was incredibly dangerous for him to leave. But she had to see him. One last time.

Ten to midnight she crept from her bed, slipping on her tennis shoes silently, watching Ginny's sleeping face. She lifted her nightgown over her head which had covered her capris and tank top and grabbed her jacket from its hiding place beneath her pillow. Clutching her wand she crept through the house, taking extra care on the old creaky stairs and listened breathlessly for any sign of movement. The house was packed to the brim with the Weasleys and the Delacours and she and Harry. She knew Tonks was outside somewhere keeping an eye on the perimeter so she kept to the shadows, hiding behind the chicken coop and darting across the lawn as the magenta haired woman strolled to the front of the house. When she felt she'd gone far enough to muffle the sound of Apparition she turned on the spot, bringing to mind the small cottage Draco had fixed for them.

She landed and immediately saw him sitting in the window, staring out at the woods. He grinned as she approached and rose to greet her, kissing her long and hard.

"How are you?" she asked seriously. Some of his color had returned as had some of his weight, but the circles were as deep as ever beneath his eyes, showing his exhaustion.

"Better now."

"Is He still torturing you?"

Draco smirked, but it held no mirth. "In his own way, but no. I am free to roam my house and join his lackeys once more."

She ached to ask him, to beg him of any knowledge that might help them, to ask if he'd been there the awful night they'd brought Harry to safety. But she knew she couldn't. Their meeting was bad enough, if Voldemort read his mind and saw he was leaking information he'd be dead. He'd put himself in enough danger for her.

"How are things?" he asked, worry etching a line between his brows. "You said it was important. Is everything alright?"

She breathed and nodded. "Yes, everything is fine. I just…" What could she say? How could she tell him that she was leaving with Ron and Harry and might never return? That their dangerous mission could keep them apart for months, years, forever? "Something has come up. I won't be able to come see you anymore. Not for a while."

His face fell before it grew hard. "What happened?"

"We just…there's something we have to do…"

"'We'? As in you and-"

"Draco, please, don't," she begged, knowing she couldn't say anything more. She couldn't reveal what they were doing, everything rested on them finding those Horcruxes and she couldn't chance it, not for anything. Clenching his jaw, she knew what it took him but he finally nodded and drew her into his arms.

She felt the fear tremble through him and into her. She clung to him as if she could keep him there longer, keep him with her if she simply willed it.

"How long?" he finally grated out.

"I don't know," she answered solemnly. He sighed in defeat and clung to her tighter.

She gasped when he swung her up into his arms suddenly and smiled as he headed towards a hallway in the back she'd noticed but not taken the time to explore. He strode through the door at the end revealing a small room with a large bed, desk, and wardrobe. The bed was neatly made in white and when he lay her down she sighed at the deep mattress and luxurious duvet.

They made love for hours, barely speaking, drenching themselves with sensations that they knew they may not feel again. He seemed to realize the intensity of the situation and showed her the greatest care, treasuring her body, whispering soft words into her hair. They held each other when they were finally sated, though Hermione could have happily continued for the rest of her life. But she knew dawn would be quickly approaching and she needed her strength for the upcoming day.

They sat together in the middle of the bed, the blankets and sheets strewn haphazardly around them. She closed her eyes as they kissed, rejoicing in the feel of him, the smell, the taste.

"I love you," he said yet again, having repeated it often throughout the night as if to make up for the lost chances to come. "I love you more than life itself."

"I love you, too," she murmured softly. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"I'll be right here when you come back. Right here waiting. Come back to me, Hermione."

She nodded, knowing it was a guarantee she couldn't make.

"Keep that coin on you at all times, promise me."

"I promise."

"If you ever need help, use it. I will come. I will come to you. Do you understand?" His voice was hard and she stared at him, moved. She knew the depth of his promise. If she called for him and he came, he would be turning his back for good. He would sacrifice his family for her.

"I understand."

His breath shuddered from him and his eyes closed, his hands clenching hers, bringing them to his forehead where he rested on them for a moment. It struck her how worried he obviously was for her and she wanted to reassure him, but she didn't know how.

"You need to rest," he finally said, his voice rough. He kissed her fingers and pulled her in, kissing her one last time. "I love you. I always will. Be safe."

"I love you, too. Take care, Draco. Remember I will always know the real you. They can't take that away. Remember."

He nodded and clenched her fingers tight. "Until we meet again."

"Until then."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Sorry so short, but the next chapters will be getting more intense and dark. Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, I hope you are enjoying their secret tale.

XOXO  
RynStar15


	8. Chapter VIII

Hermione smiled softly, staring at the happy faces around her. The wedding had been beautiful; she had even forgiven Mrs. Weasley for all of her nagging as she surveyed the final result of their hard work.

She was tired, she'd had barely a few hours of sleep after her meeting with Draco and had been preparing most of the day for the guests when Scrimgeour had arrived with Dumbledore's will.

Her stomach leapt again when she thought about the items he'd left behind for them. She hoped the seemingly useless trinkets proved to be an enormous asset for all the trouble they caused. It had pointed an even bigger finger at their situation making it harder for the three of them to go into hiding undetected.

She was slightly surprised when the coin burned in the pocket she'd added to her dress and she glanced around herself, making sure no one was looking. Ron was getting them drinks and Harry was fretting over Muriel so she snuck the small coin into her hand and read it underneath the table.

 _Run._

Her heart stopped. He knew something, something was going to happen. Her head shot up and she felt as if she'd been punched in the chest when the lynx Patronus appeared in the middle of the dance floor and gave its dire warning.

They barely made it out, Hermione nearly in tears as they searched for Ron but he'd found them, grabbing her hand, and she Apparated them out amongst the confusion. She sent a final plea for her family's safety.

Hours later, she was staring at the ceiling of the drawing room in Grimmauld Place, unable to sleep, her mind racing. She looked fondly at the freckled fingers entwined with hers and felt the warmth in her chest at his insistence that she sleep on the only cushions. Ron had become so gallant as of late, seeming to be making up for his mistake of dating Lavender. He'd been sweet, attentive, thoughtful, considerate. All the things he used to be, except magnified. In the middle of all the darkness, his pure love for her was a breath of fresh air.

But when she turned back to look at the rafters she remembered the warning she'd received too late. He'd known. He'd known they would be attacked, he had tried to warn them, putting himself in grave danger. Had he there? Had he been hidden behind a mask, attacking those she loved?  
Her heart clenched in her chest at the thought. She'd spent so much time worrying about him, thinking about their secret affair, that'd she'd barely spent a moment to remember his position in this war.

He was still one of them, still helping them, still working against her. Even if his heart was no longer in it, he was playing the game. And every moment he did put the three of them in more danger.

Her heart twisted painfully at the burning in her jeans pocket. Glancing at the boys' sleeping forms, she disentangled her hand from Ron's and eased silently from the room and into the hallway where she lit her wand to read the message:

 _Are you safe?_

She quickly responded:

 _Safe. What's happening?_

She shivered as she waited for a reply, not certain if he could respond immediately, but it seemed he'd be waiting for her.

 _Dangerous. Stay hidden. Love._

She felt frustrated. The coins limited their contact and she knew he couldn't give much away, but she needed to know what was so dangerous and how they'd taken over the Ministry. Was he a part of it? And the worst part: did she even want to know? She needed to see him, to hear from him what was happening, but she knew it was impossible. She'd understood their standing when they'd begun this. She'd never imagined falling in love with him as hard as she had, but she had to accept that this was the way things were. He was doing the best he could with what he had, and she was doing the same. So she stamped down the impulse to question him and simply reminded herself what was important.

 _I will. Take care. Love._

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione was still trembling as she lay in her bunk. She couldn't sleep, fear clawing its way through her as she recalled their narrow escape from the Ministry. It was stupid; she never should have allowed Harry to talk her into it. She'd known they weren't ready and everything had gone disastrously wrong.

Her heart thudded in her chest when Ron stirred and she whipped up.

"Ron, are you-?"

He put his finger to his lips, his face still wan, his arm in a sling. Guilt assailed her and when he motioned to her bed, she nodded silently and he slipped quietly into her bunk. She scooted over to allow him room and eased into his offered embrace. She could hear his own heart pounding under her ear as he clumsily rubbed her shoulder in a soothing gesture and Hermione sighed into his comfort. They didn't speak; she didn't have the words even if he had. Terror gripped her again as she thought of him on the forest floor, bleeding, and knew her botched Apparation spell was to blame. What if it had been worse? What if he'd lost an arm or-? She shivered and he hugged her tighter.

Tears sprang to her eyes as the coin in her makeshift pocket burned through her nightgown. Draco was calling her, and here she was snuggling up to Ron. Ron was comforting her, and here she was sending secret messages to the enemy.

Gripped by uncertainty, fear, and confusion, her fingers curled in the fabric of Ron's shirt and only released when Ron kissed her softly on the forehead and her heart clenched. Soon, he was drifting back off and she held him until she heard Harry stir from outside and slipped out of the bed to the one Ron had vacated, not ready to have this, whatever it was, in the open yet.

Quickly, before Harry joined her in the small living space, she ducked beneath the covers and lit her wand, digging out the treacherous galleon.

 _Ministry?_

She understood the implication. He'd put the pieces together as she was sure the rest of the Death Eaters had. The three of them missing (though Ron supposedly was home sick with spattergroit, but she highly doubted anyone was fooled by that) and suddenly three imposters try to sneak a bunch of people being questioned about their blood status out of the Ministry. Even now she shook her head at their rash decision.

But Draco should know better than to ask her. She knew he was worried, but the less he knew the less dangerous it was for the both of them. She tapped her coin and wrote a hasty reply, listening to Harry pacing restlessly outside the tent.

Safe. You?

She clutched the coin to her chest, awaiting his reply, wondering where he was, wondering what had happened when they'd made their escape. Had the Death Eaters had a meeting about them? Were they even now sending out waves of search parties around the country to hunt them up? She worried once more about her spellwork, hoping it was enough to keep them hidden. And then she worried about those on the outside of their protective bubble, those who might be questioned, those who would be innocently tortured for information.

The coin turned hot in her fingers and she turned it over, reading his reply:

 _Safe. Too dangerous. Don't risk._

Oh, Draco. If you only knew.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Soaking wet and sobbing Hermione gripped Ron's blankets tighter around her, his scent permeating her senses. He'd left them. Left them alone. They'd failed in his eyes. And he thought she was staying because she preferred Harry but didn't he know, after all this time, that it had always been him?

But maybe that was the problem. It _wasn't_ always him. The coin she snuck around with was proof enough of that. Her reluctance to get close to Ron was the reason he'd left. But he didn't understand it wasn't because she didn't care, it was because she was gripped by fear all the time: fear of losing him, of losing Harry, of being caught, of Draco and her relationship being found out...

But he had to know what she felt about him. Wasn't it obvious when she turned to him in the middle of the night when Harry was on watch? When she dealt him the larger portion of food always, her hand lingering when she passed him the bowl? She knew these small gestures weren't enough; they weren't enough to keep him, to break through the gloom of the locket, the hunger, and the frustration surrounding them all of never knowing what the next step was.

And as if he knew, as if on cue, the coin made its presence known. Her sobs redoubled as she warred with herself. How could she be upset that Ron had left when he had no idea of her treachery? It was so much worse than preferring Harry…

She rocked herself, wracked with indecision. Draco wasn't here, he wasn't fighting beside her. He was fighting _against_ her. Every day the danger grew, innocent people were being slaughtered and their families were in mortal peril, Mrs. Weasley's clock attesting to that fact. Her entire life was struggling to defend those like herself, and yet, in the middle of the night when no one was looking, she sent secret messages to a Death Eater.

Every night her decision to engage in this relationship with Draco faltered ever more. What had she been thinking? Had it simply been loneliness that had drove her into his arms? That aching need to be wanted? She'd been weak, she knew, she should never have kissed him back, should never have pursued him, allowed their confused hormones to take over. She'd been so stupid. Draco would never understand what she'd been through with Ron and Harry, he could never understand the danger they were all in, fighting for their lives every single day as they fought for the lives of the rest of the wizarding world. Why hadn't he joined them, why couldn't he see that every day he stayed that he was fighting against her, helping Voldemort to take over and destroy everything?

Anger boiled up and she was shocked when she realized that it was not a result of the locket which was resting on Harry's chest. She trembled violently and felt as if her entire world was falling down around her. Ron was right, they were no closer to finding the next Horcrux or destroying the one they had. He'd left her, screaming in the rain, he'd left _them,_ and now it was just she and Harry against the world, trying to solve Voldemort's riddles.

Ron was gone. Draco was fighting against her. The only person in this entire world she could trust was sleeping in the bunk behind her and he could very well be the death of her.

For the first time, she ignored the burning in her pocket.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Shaking from head to foot, Hermione wrung excess water from the rag in her hand into the bucket beside her. She bathed Harry's sweaty forehead once more as he continued to mutter in his sleep. He was calmer now, the thrashing subsiding. She sighed in utter exhaustion and her hand trembled when she rubbed her tired eyes and shoved her sticky hair from her temples.

Terror racked through her over and over as she remembered blood red eyes…

 _Stop it, you're fine, you're both fine, you made it out…_

Tears sprang to her eyes when she glanced once again at the broken wand on the floor. Guilt ate at her as she attempted to recount just when it had happened, but she couldn't. It had all been a blur, everything had happened so fast…he was coming, Harry was dragging her, there was screaming, she used a Blasting Charm in desperation…

That must have been it. She hung her head in shame. Harry would never forgive her.

He cried out again and Hermione snapped out of her selfish musings and re-dipped the cloth, laying it on his fevered head and attempting once more to Enervate him. Harry continued screaming, the spell useless. She sank back, defeated, placing her hand over his comfortingly.

The coin burned in her pocket again. She had no idea how many times it had gone off since they'd been back, since she'd hovered Harry into his bunk and severed the locket from his chest. Every few minutes he'd sent her a message, but she couldn't bear it, not now, not when Harry needed her so…

With every searing reminder of her betrayal she wanted to die. Didn't he understand? Every day he was with them put her in ever more danger. She and Harry nearly lost their lives tonight. How could she ever face him again? How could she look at him, touch him, when he was helping the man who so nearly murdered her?

She hadn't responded to him in weeks, not since the night Ron left. She was completely distraught; she'd lost all sight of what she was doing. How could she love someone who backed the one man they were trying to kill?

But what if he didn't back Voldemort anymore? What if he was just like her, stuck in a horrible situation with no way out?

Except she did. She could leave Harry. Just like Ron. Her hand tightened over Harry's at the thought. No. She couldn't. Would never. She was all he had. And in turn, he was all _she_ had. She'd noticed his touching attempts to cheer her after Ron had left, how he'd taken extra shifts, made her tea, pretended not to hear her cry. He had no idea how to console her because he had no idea how deep her pain ran.

It burned again. She could feel the desperation and her heart broke. He'd never asked her to join him. Though it wasn't the same, she knew that he gave his love to her unconditionally. She hadn't. She was punishing him for his choice to stay by his family.

She was so torn, she had no idea what was right or wrong anymore. He was right to stand by his parents and protect them in any way he could. Hadn't she done the same? But he was wrong to stand by Voldemort, to help him in whatever way, to fight against her. Didn't he see that's what he was doing?

Harry yelled in terror again and she jumped, tears streaming down her face as she attempted to ease him. His thrashing went on and on as she sobbed in defeat, unsure of what to do. Nothing she did helped, she didn't know enough about healing.

She needed air, she needed to breathe, she needed to think clearly. She ran from the room, hating herself for it, and crumpled just outside the tent where the snow swallowed her. Frigid air whipped against her face, freezing her tears in place.

She was so alone. So alone and so scared.

She broke.

She needed him.

Scrambling, she dug out the coin and sobbed when she read the words.

 _So scared. Please be safe. Love._

He was just as scared as she. She had no idea what was happening outside her and Harry's small world, had no idea what he was going through. What if he was being tortured? What if he'd defected? What if he'd been begging her for help and she'd been ignoring him this whole time?

 _Safe. Scared. Need you._

She knew she was being weak, but she didn't care. She needed him; she needed to know she hadn't just made everything up, that he truly cared for her, that her memories weren't just dreams.

 _Too dangerous. Tomorrow, try. Love._

She couldn't hide her disappointment but rationality intervened. She couldn't leave Harry, not now, not when he needed her so. Maybe if he was better tomorrow…

But there was no way. He'd know if she left, she would never be able to get away undetected. And she could never live with herself if something happened to him in her absence.

 _Impossible. Just miss you. Love._

Her body grew numb with the cold but she didn't move. She deserved this pain. She waited anxiously for his reply before returning to Harry and taking up her vigil as his final words burned across her mind.

 _Stay strong. Not forever. Until then._

XXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione stared at the Draught of Living Death sitting next to her on the bedside table that Fleur had left after she'd checked on her for the last time. She was so beyond exhausted that the mere thought of reaching up to grab the bottle was out of the question. Her body raged with pain, every muscle felt as if she'd be ripped apart on a rack, every limb torn from her body, her head pounded with mallets. No piece of her was free from it, thanks to Bellatrix's curses. The gashes made by the chandelier had been healed, mere strips of angry red now, but the pain potions pressed upon her had done little to ease the internal ache.

She wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't come. She was out of them. The agony of the last hours had breached a part of her she'd yet to see. She was numb. It was too much to take. She couldn't take anymore.

Fear. Being snatched and knowing there was no way to fight their way out.

Pain. Being brutally tortured to unconsciousness.

Grief. Burying Dobby in the garden after he'd given his life for them.

Sorrow. Watching Harry die a little bit more with yet another loss.

Uncertainty. Not knowing if the Hallows were true, not knowing if the wand would have secretly helped.

Love. Opening her eyes expecting to see Bellatrix and instead looking into the concerned blue ones of Ron's, hearing from Fleur how he'd rescued her, pulled her from the wreckage of the chandelier and carried her to the cottage, not letting anyone take her from his arms, screaming for Fleur to heal her, tears leaking down his face in fear.

Betrayal.

This last was more than she could bear. It was more than any of the others combined. She'd been wrong. He hadn't changed. Not at all. He'd sold them out. He had all but told them who she was, watched as his aunt tortured her even as she tried to catch his eye, had silently pleaded with him to step in. But he'd looked away, done nothing. He'd allowed them to carry on, had done their bidding by fetching the goblin, and after she'd passed out from the agony, the boys said that he fought them, Harry having to wrench the wands from his grip.

He'd fought them. He'd actually fought them. He'd made his choice.

And it wasn't her.

She was stupid. So, so stupid.

For the first time since he'd pressed it into her hand, the coin wasn't on her. It was still in her jeans pocket, undetectable thanks to her spellwork so it had not been taken by the snatchers. Her eyes glanced to the neatly piled clothes on the chair next to the vanity. It was there. Treacherous.

The door opened a crack and Ron smiled nervously down at her.

"Hey."

"Hey."

He slipped into the room. He was in his pajamas. He knelt next to her bed and brushed back her hair, a slight tremor in his hand.

"How are you?"

"I'm alright," she lied. "How are you?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "Fine, I guess. Not the one who got tortured."

She shuddered at the memory and he was instantly apologetic.

"It's fine, Ron, really. You saved me."

He blushed. "Well, technically it was Dobby who-"

"No, Ron. It was you."

She didn't tell him that she was also speaking metaphorically. Her heart tripped in her chest when she saw how embarrassed he was. But it was true. He'd come back to them because of her. He'd proven to her by trying to take her place when Bellatrix picked her for questioning that he was the one she should be with. Not the coward who'd stood by and watched her dying at the hands of his aunt.

"You should take your medicine," he mumbled, nodding to the bottle beside her bed. She nodded and he helped her sit up. She drank the foul smelling liquid and felt its effects nearly immediately.

"Stay with me?"

He seemed to realize he'd been forgiven and gave her a goofy half smile and rounded the bed to slip in next to her. She laid her head on his chest and he held her close.

She turned her back to the insistently burning coin.

XXXXXXXXXX

XOXO  
RynStar15


	9. Chapter IX

Staying at Shell Cottage was infinitely better than sleeping on hard bunks out in the woods, but Hermione was having as much trouble handling the crowd as Harry made out to be. He hardly spent time in the house and she envied his ability to set out and walk among the garden or explore the beach. She was still too sore to do much more than limp from the bed to the bathroom to the couch to the dinner table. She tried to help Fleur but she tutted her away and Hermione could see that she was much more like her mother-in-law than she would ever admit.

The fourth morning of their stay found her cupping a mug of tea at the table waiting for the boys to wake so they could continue planning with Griphook. Fleur quietly began breakfast, humming softly, when something tapped at the window. Both women jumped and Hermione's mug shattered as she whipped out her wand.

Fleur flew to the window. "Eez alright, dear, eez only an owl!"

Hermione put away her wand but stayed on her feet, her heart hammering when she spied an eagle feather clutched in the owl's talons.

"'Ow strange, eez just a feazzer. What do you think eet means?"

She moved faster than she should have and paid for it dearly as pain seared through her when she snatched the feather from the poor bewildered French girl's hands.

"It's nothing, just a joke between Ron and me," she lied smoothly. "Please don't mention it to him; he'd be very embarrassed if he knew you'd seen."

Fleur snorted. "You two 'ave a very strange sense of humor."

"Very strange indeed."

Infuriated, Hermione pounded to the room she shared with Luna, quieting her steps when she entered so as not to wake her. She closed the door and ensured the young girl was snoozing quietly before hefting the heavy mattress enough to get her hand under and yank out the coin.

 _Safe? Worried. Midnight. Love._

She radiated with fury and could hardly stop shaking enough to write back.

 _I don't want to see you._

She almost wanted him to wonder, to worry about her, to live every day without knowing if she'd died at the hands of his wretched family while he'd watched. But she couldn't chance more owls, more feathers. If anyone else had been downstairs when that feather had arrived there would have been an uproar, investigations as to who sent it and why. Shell Cottage could have been evacuated under suspicion; she could have been back in that tent with the boys and Griphook with no way to quell their puzzlement at the strange delivery.

He wrote back almost immediately.

 _Relieved. Please, let me explain._

 _Explain?!_ What in the world did he think he could say to her to make his actions acceptable? Anger coursed through her, making her heart race and her face heat. The image of his face looking down at her behind his demented aunt and the gnawing pain at the base of her skull had her writing in haste.

 _No. We're through._

Almost as soon as she sent it she regretted it. Her heart was breaking. She could still feel his arms around her; remember all the things he'd said to her on that snowy hill over the lake. Ever since she'd stopped communicating with him her heart had shattered piece by piece, day by day. She missed him. But she was so angry. The person who kissed her with so much passion, who held her after a silly fight with Ron, who told her that she wasn't invisible, was so very different from the cold person who'd stood by and watched her being tortured at the manor...

And as the coin heated in her hand tears scored her cheeks unchecked and she was instantly reminded of how completely he owned her heart.

 _No matter what may come._

She squeezed her eyes shut and she held the coin to her chest as she had so many times before, as if she could hold him in the same way. Guilt assailed her as hot tears hit her lap. They made a promise to each other. _No matter what may come._ And she'd broken that promise.

But how could she have foreseen such betrayal? How could she have known he would sell her out? That he would watch her writhing in pain, close to dying, with such indifference?

Stuffing the coin away she turned and readied herself for the day.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione glanced nervously at the bed where she had arranged pillows to look like her sleeping form and transfigured a bouquet of flowers into a swath of rich brown curls so anyone looking in on her would think that she was sleeping soundly.

She wondered yet again if she was making the right choice as she lovingly fingered the eagle feather. The only thing she could feel right now was the harsh sting of betrayal and the still sore muscles she hid from everyone, although Ron had been watching her closely as she winced during their long talks with Griphook. She worried he'd check in on her but she'd sent him to bed hours ago saying she was tired and he had been snoring soundly when she'd looked last.

The feather glowed blue and she rose unsteadily to her feet, anxious. She glanced over at Luna who was sleeping soundly, having had her pumpkin juice laced with a mild Sleeping Draught at dinner like everyone else. She couldn't chance anyone rousing. Hermione held her breath as she felt the familiar yank and the sensation of spinning quickly nauseated her. She landed and every muscle protested and she felt her knees buckle. She reached out wildly for the couch back to her left and leaned heavily on it, her face screwed up in pain.

"Hermione…"

The voice was so soft she barely heard it. She looked up and there he was, silhouetted in the window with the rain falling steadily behind him. Every inch of his body was hard, formidable. Except his eyes. They were full of pain, regret, desperation, and were staring at her as if he wasn't sure she was real. His face was unreadable as he walked slowly towards her as he would a frightened animal. And she supposed she was. She was frightened that one touch from him would make her forget everything again and she'd fall into his arms like nothing had ever happened.

Myriad emotions roiled through her and she couldn't breathe. Draco was as beautiful as ever and she forgot how long it had been since she'd seen him. It had seemed like only yesterday he'd kissed her, held her in his arms. She could smell him and knew her resolve was crumbling. She wanted to back away from his advances but her feet were rooted to the spot.

He stopped less than a foot from her, looking down at her, his eyes swollen above deep purple bags of exhaustion. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand as if to touch her cheek. She flinched at the movement, turning away, but she could feel her heart hammering in her chest and knew she was losing the battle.

"Oh, Hermione…I'm so sorry…"

She snapped. Before she knew what she was doing her hand was cracking against his porcelain cheek. His head whipped to the side but he otherwise gave no indication that he'd felt it. This spurred her anger even more and she slapped him again, and again, her hand ringing in the aftermath. She was panting from her exertions and she shook with rage.

She hated him for making her hate him.

When he made to touch her again she whipped out her wand, pointing it at him. They stared at each other for moments that felt like an eternity. Her wand began to tremble but she tightened her grasp as if this motion could steel her resolve. His face crumpled.

"Go on," he croaked, splaying his arms out to his side, empty, in surrender. "Do anything you want to me. I won't stop you."

She saw the wretched turmoil in his eyes and her determination wavered. She could see the pain in his gaze and knew he meant it. She closed her eyes, not able to look at him anymore, and took a steadying breath.

"What you did…"

Her voice broke as she was struck by the image of him that she'd spied between the locks of dank black hair as Bellatrix had screamed in her ear just before she'd used another Unforgivable. That mask of indifference. That's what she needed to remember.

When he spoke his voice was gravelly and it sounded as if he had to force the words out.

"I did what I had to do. You know that. You've always known that."

She scoffed and shook her head, still not looking at him. "You're right. I was just stupid enough to believe that you'd do the right thing when it came down to it. And maybe you did in your eyes. Maybe it was right for you to stand aside while she tortured me, maybe you even liked it a little-"

 _"Liked it?"_ he thundered, grabbing her arms so fast that she gasped in pain and fear. "You think I _liked_ it? You think it was pleasant for me to watch the woman I love being tortured to insanity? _IT KILLED ME,_ HERMIONE! Every second, every _scream,_ I died inside!"

"Oh yes, I'm sure it was just _agony_ for you!" she screamed scathingly, trying to get away, sparks flying from the tip of her wand as her temper flared. "As far as _I_ recall, you weren't the one being _Crucio_ -ed half to death!"

"I would have given _anything_ to take your place, to get you out of there, but I couldn't!"

"You could have _tried,_ Draco!" she cried, wrenching her arms away and stepping back to prevent his touch from breaking her will. "You could have lied; you could have told them it wasn't us!"

"And you think they would have fallen for that?" he yelled, advancing on her yet again. "I've been with you three for nearly _seven years_! Do you actually think they would have believed me if I said it wasn't you? Your face is plastered _everywhere!_ My parents have seen you at the train station, they've seen the Weasleys at Ministry functions, hell, my father fought face-to-face with you! You think they didn't know immediately who you were? It was a test, Hermione! One I couldn't chance failing. If they caught me lying we all would have been murdered on the spot, have no doubt about that! My aunt has been suspicious of me since my failed mission, she knows something is up; she would give _anything_ to look right in my father's eyes and murder the one last chance he has at redemption!"

Hermione hugged herself and looked at the wall to her left, unable to meet his gaze. She was wracked with indecision and doubt. Maybe he was right; of course he would know his schoolmates on the spot, even if one of them was swollen and distorted. Of course they'd known who the three of them were without his confirmation. How would it have looked on him if he'd tried to cover, tried to pretend it wasn't them? Hadn't he faltered, hadn't he looked away, feigned ignorance? Guilt tingled at the back of her mind as she recognized the banality of the situation. An easy way for Bellatrix to prove Draco was lying, to discredit him and his parents. It was an obvious ploy, now that she looked back on it.

But that didn't redeem him from the rest of it.

"You just stood there," she barely choked out, shaking harshly, the memories assailing her as they did every night before she closed her eyes. "I _begged_ you and you just _stood_ there-"

He was on her and she shattered as she knew she would when he dragged her against his chest. His hands clutched her as they had so long ago and she had to fight herself not to hold him back.

"I'm so sorry," he ground out, the words sounding painful. "I wish I could take it back, I wish I could have found a way…but it all happened so fast, I'd had no warning and then you were there and I didn't know what to do to keep you safe except to play the part…I was so worried that any interaction on my part would only make things worse, get you killed…I was so scared, I was wracking my brain every second, the only thing I could think to do was to make sure Potter and Weasley were armed so they could fight for you so I shot spells over their heads, let Potter take the wands…"

Guilt punched her once more as she listened to his side, realizing it was what she should have done all along. Hadn't Harry admitted he had wrested the wands from Draco without effort, with barely any resistance? And, as experienced as they were, how had they battled at such close range with no injury?

Hermione buried her face harder into his chest, inhaling his scent, emotions choking her as her brain whirled with uncertainty and fear. She dug her nails into her palms to keep herself from wrapping her arms around him and comforting him as she yearned to do. She could feel him trembling ever so slightly, his muscles tense as he tried to quell it.

"When that chandelier fell…" His fingers tightened on her until they were nearly painful, his face buried in her hair. "Hermione I couldn't breathe, I couldn't _think_ with worry…Every moment since that day had been filled with your screams, the thought that you didn't make it…When Weasley dragged you out it looked like you were dead. You weren't moving; you were covered in blood and I...I…"

His voice broke and he held her tighter, as if he could meld them together with his words. "I've been in agony every minute not knowing if you'd made it. I wanted to die every day. I wanted to just give up, to turn myself in and just be through with the lies, with the pain, with everything. But I had to know. I had to know that you had made it, that you were still alive, still here to do all the things that I'm too much of a coward to do. And I know you hate me, I know. I don't blame you. I hate myself. But I had to see you, had to hold you, had to know that you were alright because I couldn't live with myself if…"

The inevitable happened as she knew it would and she knew she would hate herself later, but she dropped her wand and gripped him fiercely and he choked on a sob, obviously trying to hold it back. He lifted her into his arms, her feet dangling, and when he turned his head for a kiss she met it.  
She'd almost forgotten what it felt like, but their lips reunited like old friends and she couldn't stop the pounding of her heart, the melting of her limbs. It was impossible. She loved him, no matter the reasons, no matter his flaws.

He groaned against her lips and she could feel the desperation behind the kiss. She felt it too, like every moment since she'd left that wedding so long ago had been building to this.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered again, kissing her cheeks, her eyes, her hair. "I'm so sorry…"

She squeezed him tighter. "I know. I know, Draco. I should never have doubted you."

"No, don't apologize; you had every reason," he grated out, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in. "Gods, Hermione. When I saw you there…I never want to feel that way again."

He lowered her to the ground and pulled her away enough to cup her face with both hands, his eyes fierce. "Hermione, you have to stop whatever it is you and Potter and Weasley are doing. You're going to get yourself killed. If the Dark Lord had been there-"

"Draco, don't ask me to do what you yourself cannot. If I don't fight for my kind, who will?"

His eyes closed. "It's too dangerous; you don't know what he's capable of…"

She covered his hands with hers and tried to smile at him reassuringly. "I survived him once. I'll do it again."

She could feel him start to tremble under her hands, knowing he understood her confession to the night in Godric's Hollow. "Please, Hermione, I'm begging you…"

"There's nothing you can say to make me stop, Draco."

He shook his head. "I'm so sick with worry all the time," he whispered. "I can't take this, I can't take knowing you're out there putting your life on the line over and over for Potter."

"It's not just for him," she insisted. "This isn't just about him. It's about everyone. It's for the right of my kind to live among the Purebloods and Half-bloods without subjugation. It's so that people like us might one day have the chance to be together without fear. Don't you want that world, too?"

He sighed deeply, wearily. "Yes. I do. But not at the cost of losing you."

She didn't know what to say. She knew how he felt. She was scared every day for him, for the boys, hell, for her own life. But she knew it was worth the risk. She couldn't live with herself if she wasn't trying to end Voldemort's reign for good. They were so close, Harry was certain there was a Horcrux in the Lestrange vault and with Griphook they might actually be able to take it. They had the sword now. They were closer every day.

He sighed heavily. "I know nothing I say will change your mind. Just...try not to be so risky again, alright? Don't say his name anymore, that's how they'll find you. And they know you three are together now so just…don't be seen in threes. Not even with Polyjuice potion."

Her stomach leapt. So Voldemort knew for certain she'd been with Harry in Godric's Hollow. And if Draco had any idea the risk they were about to take he'd be beside himself. But it gave her an idea for their break-in. Not in threes…

She nodded. "Alright. And you do what you need to do to survive."

He scoffed. "I always do, don't I?"

She felt a shift in their relationship. They'd begun as nothing more than innocent distractions, sexual playmates. They'd turned into lovers. Then they'd fallen in love. They had always known they were on opposing sides. But the game had changed. It wasn't just about fighting each other at school; it was about life and death. Every day was more dangerous than the last. She couldn't fully forgive his hand in what had happened at the Malfoy Manor, though she knew it was not his fault they'd been caught and he'd done what he could to make sure they had an advantage without giving himself away. It hurt because she knew she'd give her life for him and yet wondered if he would be willing to do the same. She felt let down in a sense. She'd hoped it would be like some fairy tale and he would be the knight in shining armor there to rescue her.

But she was more logical than that. It would have been stupid of him to blow his cover. He was absolutely right. If he'd tried to help her they would have all been murdered on the spot. Bellatrix was a terrifying opponent, especially when angered. They would never have escaped her wrath.

And he was here now. He'd done everything he could and had brought them back together, had reminded her of what they had. No, it wasn't a fairy tale, it wasn't perfect, it wasn't easy. But it was theirs.

She sighed wearily. "Why couldn't you have been a good ole' Muggle-loving Gryffindor? It would make this whole mess a mite easier to work with."

He snorted. "You _had_ a 'good ole' Muggle-loving Gryffindor' and yet who did you turn to when he let you down?" He grinned. "The bad boy Slytherin who made you come outside our Potions classroom. Do you remember that day?"

She tried to look annoyed at his jibe about Ron but her lips tugged up at the memory. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh?" he quipped, his hands snaking their way down her body. Her breath caught and the need of the last several months suddenly sprang up and hit her like a battering ram. "It's been too long, I see. Well, I'll just have to remind you, won't I?"

"Draco-"

His lips devoured her and she moaned at the intensity of his kiss. He grabbed her hips and lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, gasping when he pressed her against the wall as he had so long ago. Her breath stuttered from her as his lips traveled her neck and he placed open-mouthed kisses on her collarbone. She moaned softly when he cupped her breasts, bringing them together to nip at her cleavage. She shut down to mind to everything besides what she felt when he touched her. All the pain, the fear, the anguish of the last months slipped away beneath his touch, beneath his love.

"I still remember that day as if it were yesterday," he murmured. "I couldn't take my eyes off you during all of potions. I nearly took you right then, right in front of everyone to show them you were mine. I thought I would die of want waiting for you to emerge and the moment I saw you I snapped, I had to have you."

His words crashed over her, melting her heart once more, weaving the broken pieces back together as his hands explored her body, taking in every centimeter, memorizing every line. She gasped when he nibbled her lip, but he completely took her breath away with his next words.

"Look at me," he growled; his eyes dark behind the intensity of his words, his hands cupping the side of her face, warm, strong, hard. "I will _never_ betray you. I will never put you in danger or bring you harm. And I will never, _never,_ stand aside again. Do you understand me?"

Floored, Hermione couldn't speak. Her heart stammered from the conviction in his voice, in his eyes, in the tight grip of his fingers. She knew he meant what he said, that she could trust him once more. Impossibly moved, she nodded.

He kissed her with heartfelt desperation; desperation to show her the truth within him.

"I love you, Hermione," he said against her lips. "I've always loved you and I _will_ always love you. You gave me life, and I will give you mine if necessary. Never doubt me. Never doubt me."

"I won't," she whispered.

He kissed her hard, successfully shattering the barrier she'd been building for all these months. She clung to him, eager to show him that she believed him, that she trusted him once more.

"I'll never doubt you," she gasped as he took back to her neck. "I trust you, I _love_ you. It's you and me Draco, no matter what may come."

"No matter."

Without breaking the kiss, he wended his way through the small cottage, pushing open the door to the bedroom and laying her gently on the soft bed. His kisses slowed and his hands explored her, loving her.

"Oh, my sweet little Gryffindor, it has been much too long…"

Her body agreed as he slowly unwound her, unraveling all of the doubt and terror and fear of these last months without him. He undressed her as if unwrapping the most precious of gifts, savoring each centimeter revealed. Each time she attempted to reach out, to give him the pleasure he was bringing her, he pressed her back. She allowed him, knowing that he needed this. He needed to show her, through words and actions, how much he cared for her. So she let him and reveled in it, tucking each moment away for when she was back out there, knowing how much she would need it in the coming days.

With his hands, lips, and tongue, he quickly had her melted into the mattress, nearly bursting with want. His lips ventured further south, taking in every curve and setting her skin on fire even as goosebumps erupted. Her breath skittered through softly parted lips as his finally settled on her mound, drawing her legs up, sinking to the floor for a better view. He growled low in his throat before diving in, making Hermione yelp as electricity shot through her. He worked her hood fervently, his tongue drawing out sensations she'd nearly forgotten existed. She mewled, her hips jerking but he held her firmly, lifting her bum and raising her to him.

"Draco!" she gasped as his expert mouth worked her, drawing her higher, tearing every thought from her mind until it was centered fully on her rising need. She cried out when his fingers entered her, working in tandem with his tongue and lips, guttural sounds ripping from her throat as she wound higher and higher…

Hermione screamed in utter bliss as it crashed over her, hot and hard and breathtaking. She nearly sobbed as she came down but he didn't stop and she knew he wouldn't until he had her completely plait, completely under his spell.

And like the skilled wizard he was, he took her there, one climax breaking over the other until she swore she couldn't handle another…

But she did, he showed her, his lips coming to take her mouth as his fingers continued their destruction and without warning he was filling her, thrusting into her tightness, making her cry out and cling to him to ground herself.

"Draco please-"

"I've got you," he grinned. "And I'm not nearly done yet."

He kissed her hard and raised her legs, pounding deeper into her, taking more from her, giving more of himself to her. She could barely breathe, the impossible ecstasy whipping through her with every thrust, coiling up tightly within her.

"That's it," he grated out, watching as her eyes rolled back. "That's my girl, come for me now." It broke over her again at his words and he worked her through it, his eyes nearly black when she met them once more. Hermione couldn't think, couldn't see anything but him, couldn't feel anything but the pleasure he wrought. She yanked his head down to hers, telling him wordlessly where he had taken her.

His movements quickened, she could feel the fire burning within him and it rushed over her, winding her up once more, knowing he was as crazy with need as she. His fingers tightened, his face twisted with pleasure so intense it almost looked painful, his last thrusts shoving her over with him as he cried out, his hips whipping against her, lengthening their pinnacle until he emitted one last guttural roar and slumped against her.

Hermione couldn't see for several long moments and her entire body tingled in the aftermath. She couldn't catch her breath, didn't want to. Draco enveloped her in his embrace, his sweaty forehead tucking itself in her neck, breathing hard. They didn't speak, simply felt. Every hurt, every ounce of fear and betrayal and anguish he had deftly removed and she felt more peaceful than she had in a very long time.

She knew what she was about to do, the danger she was about to partake in. She knew her life was not certain, that death may be creeping just around the corner from her, waiting to wrap her in his arms as he had with Ignotus…but for once, she didn't fear it. A calm she could have never imagined had settled into her bones. Determination rose within her. She would fight to her last breath for this.

She sighed. "If only we could do this more often."

He chuckled, his breath hot against her skin. "I'm not sure if I could handle it more than twice a year. You almost killed me."

 _"Me? You_ were the one who decided I needed to be orgasm-ed to death!"

"Hey, I was just making up for lost time."

She laughed and rolled to her side to kiss him sweetly. "I want this," she whispered, looking into his beautiful grey gaze. "When it's all over. I want this."

His face saddened and he drew her against him tighter, his hand pressing her head to his chest where she could hear his heart thudding strongly beneath her ear.

He sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, I want this too."

They were quiet for a long time and Hermione could feel herself drifting off but knew she mustn't.

"I have to go," she said softly, regretfully. "I can't chance anyone noticing I'm missing."

His grip tightened as if he could keep her there by will alone and her heart swelled, wishing she could stay there forever where she was warm and safe and loved. But he finally nodded and placed a heavy kiss against her hair before silently helping her dress, stalling her with lingering kisses and soft caresses.

When they'd finally readied themselves they held each other, not wishing to leave the sanctity of the night.

"I'll call for you next week," he said, kissing the top of her head. Hermione hardened like a statue, knowing he wasn't going to like what she had to say. She pulled slightly out of his arms in order to look up at him.

She shook her head solemnly. "No, Draco. I won't be able to come to you. Not for…a while."

He stiffened, anger flashing across his face.

"No."

"Draco…"

"No, Hermione, _dammit!"_ he roared, pushing away from her. "Not again!"

"Draco, you knew what I was getting into-"

"After what nearly happened to you the other night? Do you have a death wish?"

"Of course not," she said, trying to soothe him by placing her hands on his chest. "Draco, please understand-"

"No," he snapped, shaking his head. "No, I can't let you; you don't know what you're getting yourself into-"

"Excuse me!" she replied breathlessly. "I think I know better than you-"

"NO!" he thundered, turning from her to pound across the room, his hands coming to his hair, scrubbing his face. His fist smashed against the wall hard enough to make her jump and she could see the turmoil in his stature. He kept turned away from her breathing hard, trying to regain control.

"I just got you back," he panted. "I almost lost you just days ago and now you want to throw yourself in danger again? Do you have any idea how furious he is that you escaped?"

"That's why we need to act now, as soon as we can," she said quietly, terrified of angering him further.

He scoffed, shaking his head, leaning heavily against the wall as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. She knew he wasn't angry at her, but for her, and it only made her love him all the more.

Tamping back her emotions Hermione went to him, touching his back gently though the small movement seemed to break him, his composure sinking.

"Don't make me lose you," he whispered, the words painful. "Don't make me go through that again. I'm not strong like you, I can't…"

"Draco…" She turned him to face her, her hands going to his haggard face which held the evidence of the fear her held. For her. "You know I have to do this. You know me. But I'm smart; I've always scraped by before, haven't I?" She smiled, trying to lighten his mood, not wanting to leave like this.

"But what if you don't next time?" his voice barely audible, his face scrunched in fear.

Her thumbs gently stroked his tight face, her body moving into his. "Then you'll know that I went happy. That I went more loved than I ever dreamed and doing what I wanted to do. My heart will be content."

He shattered, she watched it happen. He shattered for her. She took him into her arms and he clung to her fiercely, his body quaking as he tried to hold back wracking sobs.

"Just promise me," he grated out. "Promise me you'll fight. You'll never stop fighting. Fight for us."

She leaned up to kiss his forehead. "I promise, Draco. I'll never stop. Not until it's over."

He enveloped her once more. "I love you, you reckless, selfless, courageous witch." He sighed, seeming to gain a modicum of composure. "Damn you. Damn you for being a bleeding Gryffindor."

She grinned and saw the ghost of a smile upon his lips. "I love you too, you sodding Slytherin."

His kiss floored her with its intensity. She gave back, not knowing what the future held for either of them but knowing that whatever it was, they would always have this.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

XOXO  
RynStar15


	10. Chapter x

"I saw you kiss him."

Hermione flinched. She continued to hug herself and stare at the wall, ignoring the words as she'd ignored his _crack_ of Apparation. She couldn't face him, not yet. It hurt too much.

"You meant it." His voice was low, accusatory. It drove into her like a thousand nails.

"Yes."

She heard his breath catch but he didn't move, frozen as she was by the weight of the last days. Breaking into Gringotts, meeting Aberforth, destroying the cup, the battle, the kiss, the Fiendfyre and Draco, Snape's death and confessions…losing Fred, losing Tonks and Remus…losing Harry…the last fight, Draco's face across the Great Hall as she held Ron…

 _Ron…_

She couldn't process, wracked with indecision. She'd called Draco here, to their place, without a thought other than the burning need to see him. But now she couldn't look him in the eye. There was no denying what she felt for Ron any longer. She loved him. He loved her. They hadn't admitted it yet, but it was there. He'd been amazing; thinking of the Basilisk fangs, holding her close as he'd flown them down to the depths of the school, speaking Parseltongue, coaching her in destroying the cup, holding her after as the fear it had seized her. He'd protected her every inch of the way, never leaving her side, fighting as she'd never seen before, his hand in hers, always there. And then thinking of the house elves, something no one else would do…

It was too much. He had done more than enough penance for his rash decision in the woods all those months ago. He'd apologized over and over for getting with Lavender, for not choosing her first. They'd talked long into the night a dozen times since and she could see the man he'd grown into. His love was pure, his heart was strong, his soul full of courage and compassion. They'd shared a past unlike anyone else, two children doing everything they could to keep their best friend alive. No one could ever know the hours they spent in the dark of the night planning, researching, worrying. No one could know the bond they'd made, two misfits bowing under the shadow of their friend's fame and yet while everyone gloried in his accomplishments, no one saw the pain they endured as the cost.

On some levels, Ron knew her deeper than anyone in this world. Every time he turned those beautiful blue eyes on her her heart caught. It was a love so different from the one she felt with Draco. It was as bright as this one was dark.

And in the Room of Requirement he'd fought for her. He'd protected her. He'd saved her. And had gone back for Goyle because that's who he was, Gryffindor to the bone.

"I'm not sorry," she finally whispered.

"You have no reason to be." His voice was dark, low, frightening in its sadness. She trembled, swallowing hard to maintain composure. After several deep breaths she found her voice.

"In the Room of Requirement-"

"I did everything I could, you know that-"

"I know. I saw. I heard. You protected Harry, you tried to stop them."

"They were out of control, I had no idea they would-"

"I know," she breathed. She remembered every minute. She'd only heard the correspondence, having been deeper in the room in search of the diadem. But at the sound of his voice she'd ran to him, floored when she heard him stopping his goons from attacking Harry, trying to protect Ron, trying to protect her…he'd kept his promise to her.

"I had no idea he even knew that spell," he growled. "Bloody imbecile…got what he deserved…"

"He was your friend."

"He was. And he almost killed you. For that I'll never forgive him."

Her eyes slammed shut against the emotion. It was such a blur after that. Fire and heat and Ron's hand dragging her, seeing Draco's face on the pile of rubbish, opening her mouth to beg Ron to go back for him but he was already turning, screaming death threats at Harry she knew he didn't mean.

And then the explosion, and Fred…running down the hall…

"You told that Death Eater you were one of them…"

"I was, Hermione. You know that. But I wasn't trying to join them. I needed a wand; I'd lost my mother's to the fire. It was a means to an end."

Shaking, Hermione drew something from the pocket of her robes, fingering it lightly before dropping it to the ground. It clattered softly, rolling, but it echoed through the room with a torturous declaration.

She heard him moved forward softly to retrieve it, felt the tension as he realized what it was. "How did you-?" he croaked.

"I stole it from Harry's trunk. He used to Elder Wand to repair his own so he has no use for it now. I made a copy so he'll never miss it."

"The…the Elder Wand? As is the Peverell brothers' Elder Wand?"

"That's it," she sighed, still turned away from him, still not able to meet his gaze. "The very same. Dumbledore won it off Gregorovich, you won it off Dumbledore when you Stunned him, though you didn't know it. The wand was buried with him. When you let Harry take your wand he won it off you. So when Voldemort found it in Dumbledore's grave it belonged to Harry all along. That's how he won."

A heavy silence ensued, the tension in the room palpable.

"Thank Merlin," he let out a soft laugh and a long sigh. "Thank Merlin and Harry-bloody-Potter."

Stunned, she finally turned. His face was as haggard as she'd seen; exhausted, depleted, grief stricken. Much as she figured hers was. His words left her speechless, but as she watched the relief flow through him she could tell it was genuine.

"It's over," he said, his eyes hard on her but his face light. "We're free."

She nodded. "Yes, we're free."

They stared at each other a long moment until his face fell and he spoke, his words slicing into her. "So, why are you here? Shouldn't you be celebrating with your red-headed ponce?"

"Don't you _dare_ speak about Ron-"

"I'll speak however I wish!" he thundered, waking a step towards her so that she took one back, but he persisted. "You called _me,_ you asked _me_ to meet you here and I damn well deserve to know why! _What are you playing at, Hermione?!"_

His lips crashed upon hers, taking her brutally. It was the roughest he'd ever been by far and Hermione felt a quiver in her belly as his emotion sparked hers into flame. Anger flared and she blamed him for it. She hated that she was doing this to Ron, she hated that Draco couldn't be was sick to her stomach of all the lies, all the betrayal and deceit. She just wanted him to have done the right thing, to have picked the right side from the beginning so they could have been together and she would never have felt the pull of Ron's love.

But he hadn't. He'd chosen the enemy. And now she could never give herself to him fully.

"Damn you," she hissed, shoving at him as he bit her shoulder, likely leaving a mark. But she couldn't care less. She deserved the pain for what she was doing to Ron. "Damn you for making me this way, damn you for making me love you, you selfish coward!" She ripped out of his grip and slapped him hard.

"Fuck you, you prideful bitch!" he growled, slamming her into the wall so hard she gasped. He gripped her thighs roughly and yanked them around him and she hung on as his hands caught her wrists and rammed them above her head. He kissed her again, all teeth and anger and pain and she loved it. She thrashed against him, suddenly overwhelmed with fury.

"Why didn't you come to us, to _me?_ Why did you have to side with _Him?"_ she cried, trying to get a hand loose and failing, bucking her hips against his but he stood firm, pressing tightly against her.

 _"You didn't listen to me!"_ he roared, shoving her rougher against the wall, his cheeks pink, his eyes flaming. "I told you to stay out of it but the bloody Know-It-All knows best, doesn't she? _DOESN'T SHE?"_

"YES, DAMN IT!" she screamed, shoving against him hard enough to make him lose his footing and she was able to drop to the ground. She brought up her knee and caught him in the stomach when he bent to secure the organs between his legs. "I DO, AND I DID!"

She thrashed out, shoving him hard enough that he fell against the end of the couch. "WHO, WON, DRACO? _WHO WON?"_

"AAARRGH!"

He charged, grabbing her roughly and throwing her from him where she hit the floor with a cry. Then took to the room, smashing lamps and chucking tables, shattering a mirror above the fireplace she'd barely even noticed was there. As she watched their little house torn to shreds her fury mounted and she jumped him, clinging to his back and raining down punches. He flipped her with a yell and she hit the floor, her bones jarring. He turned from her but she launched to her feet, attacking him again, shoving and swatting as he attempted to hold her back.

"I HATE YOU!" she screeched, beyond control, beyond caring. "I HATE YOU, YOU INSUFFERABLE PRAT! YOU DISGUSTING DEATH EATER! MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY ARE _DEAD_ BECAUSE OF YOU!"

"ME?" he thundered, shoving her so hard that she tripped over a broken table leg and crashed to the floor once more. He dropped atop her, hands on either side of her shoulders, trapping her in. His knees held her hips and he received several blows before securing her wrists above her head where she screamed in frustration, not able to match her much stronger opponent. "It's all _my_ fault, is it now? _I_ killed them all single-handedly?"

"No," she conceded through clenched teeth. "No, but you stood aside, you stood aside and let it happen, just like you let Bellatrix torture me! You're a COWARD!"

He slapped her so hard she was breathless in its wake. She was able to wriggle a hand free from his loosened grip and cracked her fist against his cheek, so hard his face whipped to the side and he lost grip on her other wrist. She began beating on his chest, shoving at him, horrified when she felt tears in her eyes, when he saw them and held her down tighter.

"Let go of me!" she cried hysterically, the tears running freely now.

"No."

"God dammit, Draco, let me _GO!"_

"No."

"URGH!" she screamed and screamed, kicked and thrashed and punched and shoved but he held still as a statue, taking the abuse, seemingly emotionless which enraged her even more.

"I hate you!"

"I know."

"GOD DAMMIT, I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, YOU RUINED _EVERYTHING!"_

"I know."

Seeing the horrible self-loathing in his gaze she screeched, coming unhinged. She wrenched her hands out of his grip, covering her face as she screamed until her voice broke and a harsh sob took its place. She cried harder than she'd ever cried, images of her lost friends, knowledge of her lost childhood, fear of losing Ron because she couldn't let Draco go overcame her, and she cried. When he pulled her into his arms she fought him weakly, her strength sapped.

"Let me go," she gasped, even as she clung.

"No."

His arms wrapped tighter around her and she let out a bitter sob.

"I hate you."

"I know."

"Why c-couldn't you have changed? J-joined us?"

"You knew I wouldn't. That's not who I am. I wouldn't turn my back on my family any more than you would."

"Please," she choked hysterically, fumbling for a hold on him. "Don't l-let me go. Don't let me go."

"I won't. You know I won't."

"Please love me."

"You know I do."

He tilted her ruddy face up and she saw the truth written on his face. She saw all the pain and guilt she felt reflected in his eyes, both of them shattered beyond repair.

This time when he kissed her it wasn't in anger. She could taste the iron tang of blood from his split lip, felt the tenderness of her cheek when he brushed it, kissed it, apologizing wordlessly. She made her own apologies, gently loving him, engulfing herself in the touch and taste of him. She knew right then how desperately she needed him. He had shown her a love unlike anything she'd ever imagined. No, it wasn't the fairy tale romance, it wasn't the happily-ever-after and there would be no riding off into the sunset. But she needed their love more than she needed air. It was the one thing which had brought her back from the brink over and over the last few years, the one certainty she'd clung to.

He showed her once more the places his love could take her as his hands found her body, reveling in every inch once more. She hummed against his lips as she was sparked back to life, that fire that burned painfully inside her flaring. He stoked it tenderly, his touch soft, reverent.

They came together there on the wood floor amongst the destruction Draco had wrought in his anger. A piece of table leg was lodged under Hermione's back but when he slid into her, filling her, all sensations honed to only him, only his touch, his words which fluttered softly through her hair. He moved slowly, methodically, making love to her as never before. Her breath stuttered in her throat and tears gathered in her eyes at the beauty he showed her. And when they rose up together, when they found that precipice, they held each other tightly and fell as one, forever united by a bond no words could explain.

Hermione sighed in contentment against his chest several minutes later as they lay wrapped in each other. Draco toyed with her hair absentmindedly, his other hand tracing lazy circles against her back. He kissed her sweaty temple, his lips lingering and Hermione fell a little more.

She sighed regretfully. "I can't stay. Someone will notice I'm gone."

He stiffened slightly. "Someone? Or Weasley?"

Hermione pursed her lips, not wanting to fight about Ron. She knew Draco was sore about the subject, but she didn't know what else she could do. Her heart was completely divided. She thought vaguely about using Mrs. Weasley as an excuse, but she couldn't lie to him.

"Yes. Ron will notice I'm missing."

He was silent for a moment. "You're living with him then?"

"Yes. We're living with the Weasleys, Harry and I. They took us both in. We had no where else to go."

"Your parents?"

A ball of pain caught in her throat at the memory of her parents. Would she ever be able to reverse the spell effectively? Would they ever remember their daughter? Or was it best to keep them this way, oblivious to her world, content in Australia?

"They...they don't..."

Draco shifted slightly, turning in her arms to look at her. "They don't what?"

She felt the tears in the back of her eyes and swallowed them back. She'd made the decision, she had to live with it. "I Obliviated them before I went in search of the Horcruxes. They don't even know I exist."

There was a long tense moment and then his face fell, his eyes full of sympathy. "Oh, Hermione..."

She cleared her throat of the ball lodged there. "It was for the best. I was Harry's friend, they were in danger. So I hid them. So...now I have the Weasley's."

He pulled her tightly against his strong chest. "I'm so sorry," he whispered and she knew he meant it.

"It had to be done."

Eventually they moved apart, finding their clothing amongst the debris. Dressed, Hermione fingered a piece of mirror which lie next to her, wishing she didn't have to leave, wishing she could stay here forever with Draco. But the thought of never seeing Ron again was too much to bear.

"I have to go," she whispered again, still looking at the sliver of mirror in her hand. Draco stared at her from where he stood, buttoning his black shirt. His fingers stilled, fell.

His eyes bored into hers. "And you're going to stay with Weasley?"

She swallowed and her heart clenched. Images of the two side by side flashed through her mind, one light, one dark, one giving, the other taking. Both courageous in their own ways, both loving her in their own ways, both claiming her heart as she could never imagine.

The words stuck in her throat, but her heart already knew the truth. There was no fighting it, no denying it any longer.

"Yes. Yes, I'm staying with Ron."

His face hardened, a shadow of the Death Eater she knew was beneath. "You're mine, Hermione."

She met his gaze, her eyes never wavering. She needed him to see, to feel the truth of her words. She stood slowly, going to him, her hands going to his cocked collar and smoothing it into place. "I am. And you are mine. But I won't leave Ron for you. I love him and I'm staying with him."

She watched the pain play over his face as his eyes dropped to the wand in his hand, his fingers white where they clenched it. She saw his entire body harden, knew he was steeling himself to let her go. She knew he would if it was what she wanted, because he loved her.

It was the only sign she needed.

She gazed up into his pain filled eyes and cupped his cheek. He flinched slightly as if their close proximity was painful.

"But I won't let you go," she whispered, watching as her words sank in, enjoying the play in his eyes as he heard her truth. "We made a promise, Draco. No matter what. I am sticking by that promise. I refuse to lose you. I won't. I love you, I _need_ you-"

His mouth captured hers, drawing out the impossibility of their situation, the truth of their love and the reality of their insurmountable affair. They would never make it, the two of them. The odds were against them from the start and even now, even with the war over, they could never truly be together.

But they would always have this. They would always have their secret love, their secret life, hidden away from prying eyes where it could never be tainted, never be touched.

So they would take what they could get in the moments that they had. They would cherish their love in a way only they could, because only they would ever understand it.

So when they said good-bye they knew it was not forever.

It was only until they could meet again.

XXXXXXXXXXX

XOXO  
RynStar15


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

Hermione closed her eyes on a sigh when soft lips met her temple.

"I love you," Ron whispered hoarsely, his fingers tightening in her hand. She looked up into his shining blue eyes and smiled, cupping his cheek with the hand that had been over his heart.

"I love you, too," she murmured and he leaned down for a gentle kiss, his foot coming down on her heel covered toe, making them stumble slightly in the throes of their first dance.

"Sorry," he muttered, a blush creeping into his freckled cheeks. Hermione giggled and pulled him back into step with her. She knew he'd been practicing endlessly with his mother and her heart swelled at his consideration. He had done everything in his power to make this day perfect for her, allowing her to mix a little bit of Muggle tradition in with the wizarding ceremony (which was kept _very_ low-key for her family members who still didn't know she was a witch.)

She glanced down happily at the pretty ring he'd had made for her at Harry's insistence. She'd been overcome with emotion when he'd actually gotten down to his knee and proposed, the gold band with a single diamond gleaming in its very Muggle case. She'd cried like a child when he'd slipped it onto her finger, counting them to be sure he placed it on the one Harry had instructed.

And now it glittered against her hand which was clasped in his as they swayed to the band, her white gown billowing around them. When the song ended, she allowed her new husband to escort her back to their seat where Ginny was wiping tears from her eyes, careful not to disturb her makeup. Harry leaned over and kissed Hermione on the cheek.

"You look beautiful," he murmured and she squeezed his hand in thanks, overcome with emotion. A waiter refilled their champagne glasses and Harry toasted them for the seventh time, making her grin at the happiness that flowed through him. The change that had come over him since the war was indescribable. His wife leaned over for a kiss and Hermione sighed again with contentment.

"May I have this dance?"

Hermione's stomach clenched and she looked up at the voice, her brow wrinkled at the unfamiliar face. Thick, wavy brown hair and mousy features claimed him as a full-blown Granger, but she couldn't quite place him…

"Do I-?"

"Come cousin, it's been far too long and I am eager to catch up," he said insistently, his smile somehow familiar.

"Of course," she smiled back, turning to her beaming husband. "Ron, you don't mind?"

"Better him than me," he laughed and she kissed him sweetly before rising and taking the hand of the stranger, allowing him to sweep her back onto the floor as the music swelled.

"I'm sorry," she said as he moved her smoothly around the floor, his body pressed all too tightly against hers. "I can't seem to recall, it's been too many years…"

"I'm hurt, dear cousin, that you wouldn't recognize your favorite dragon," he drawled, his steel grey eyes gleaming with amusement. Hermione gasped.

"Drac-"

He swung her into a spin in perfect cadence with the song, cutting off her dangerous realization. He'd changed his hair and the contours of his face, added dark facial hair, but nothing could replace the flaming grey of his eyes or the deep timbre of his voice.

Draco pulled her back into his body and she thrummed with terror and pleasure when her tugged her much closer than any cousin had a right to.

"Draco, what on earth are you doing?" she whispered, her eyes flitting around the room as if someone would pounce on them and announce him for who he was. But hardly anyone looked up, the dance floor was filled with laughing couples, the tables packed as guests finished their meals and Harry was booming with laughter at something Ron was telling him, the two of them flushed with the effects of the champagne. No one seemed bothered by the bride who was nestled in the arms of an obvious family member, even her parents didn't look twice.

"I'm enjoying our first dance," he murmured, his lips coming to her ear and she shivered, the familiar heat pooling between her legs at the contact.

"Draco, it's my wedding night," she breathed as the hand on her waist tightened slightly.

"I'm well aware."

His voice was strained and she looked up into his sad gaze.

"Draco…"

He looked over her head, his eyes locking on the wall behind her. "Don't. I've told you, you don't need to apologize for being happy."

She swallowed back the emotion which lodged in her throat. Her engagement had brought a strain upon their relationship, Draco lashing out at the unfairness of their love affair. But his own engagement followed on the heels of hers and they were both swept up in the reality of their situation. They could never be more than secret lovers, sharing a life hidden away from the prying eyes of the public. They were both rising in their careers, Draco focused on repairing the damage to his family's reputation and Hermione fighting with the publicity that came with being a war heroine. They were both busy, each year bringing more and more responsibility, more reasons to keep them apart.

But they held strong, clinging to each other through it all. Every "conference" brought her to their cozy cottage in the woods, every weekend with her parents had Draco whisking her off to some foreign country; a moonlit dinner atop the cliffs of Ireland, a sun drenched beach in Greece, a drunken fling in the streets of Las Vegas. He was forever surprising her, forever showering her in gifts and admiration.

Their secret coin was tucked into the folds of her dress even now. Even on the day of her wedding to Ronald she'd had to keep a piece of him with her. He was a part of her soul and her heart ached with happiness that he was here now, even though the danger and impropriety of their situation was not lost on her.

"You shouldn't be here," she said nervously. "Someone will notice-"

He snorted. _"You_ didn't even recognize me and I had you bent over the couch last night screaming my name."

She blushed at the memory, having spent the eve before her wedding alone in the apartment she shared with Ron while his mother insisted he stay at his family home as was "tradition." She'd wasted no time in beckoning Draco to their cottage in the forest where he'd taken her ferociously, proclaiming his love for her over and over.

"I had to see you," he admitted lowly. "It's the only chance I have to hold you in a white dress with your family and friends surrounding you."

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes and Hermione rested her cheek against the lapel of his Muggle suit. He held her tighter against his chest, his cheek resting upon her head. She knew they were acting too intimate, but the bustling dancers around them swallowed them as Draco moved them towards the center of the floor, allowing the guests to provide a momentary shield.

"I loved you first," he whispered and her heart clenched.

"As I loved you first," she said. She met his eyes and the tears swelled at the emotion on his face, his right hand toying with her left. His brow crinkled when he felt the ring upon her finger, the ring she'd removed before every meeting with him. He looked down at the shimmering diamond and frowned.

"A wedding gift?" he asked, admiring the simple ring.

"Not exactly," she muttered. "It's a Muggle tradition. When a man proposes he's supposed to present a ring. It's a symbol of their eternal love. Harry told Ron about it and he got one for me for our engagement."

Draco's jaw clenched and he nodded, continuing to stare at it. He tugged his hand from hers and, without missing a single step in their dance, flicked his wrist and Hermione gasped when he Conjured a simple silver band.

Easing the diamond from her finger, he slipped the ring on, raising her hand to his mouth to press his lips against it before replacing Ron's ring. With a caress of his thumb the silver band disappeared, its weight still evident on her hand.

"Say the words," he said breathlessly and the breath stuttered from her chest, their eyes locking.

"I give my life to you so that our souls may be as one," she breathed, echoing the words she'd told Ron only hours ago.

"And united we shall remain by a love that will never be undone."

"We go forth from this day as one heart beating forever."

"Bound by a union no mortal spell can sever."

As the last word of the wizarding marriage rite fell from his lips a tear raced down her cheek. Draco caught it with his thumb, the longing in his eye more painful than she could bear.

"Meet me in the third room on the right down the hall," she whispered and he nodded, taking her hand and bowing over it, his lips tracing over her knuckles in a way that made her belly quiver in anticipation.

She wove through the crowds to where Ron and Harry were still roaring with laughter. She rounded the table to press her lips to Ron's ear.

"I'm going to go freshen up, I think I've had a bit too much champagne," she lied and Ron turned to her, concern replacing the mirth on his face.

"Are you alright? Would you like me to come with?"

"No," she said hurriedly. "No, I'll not be long, I'm just going to splash some water on my face. You stay here and entertain our guests, I'll be back soon."

He nodded and leaned up for a kiss. "Anything you say, Mrs. Weasley."

Hermione smiled guiltily and placed a kiss against his lips. "I like the sound of that, Mr. Weasley."

She moved quickly towards the hall, glancing at her parents who were engaged in a lively conversation with a gleeful Arthur Weasley, and gathered her gown so that she could scamper down the hall, barely getting the door open before Draco was dragging her inside and shoving her against the door, his tongue plunging into her mouth, lifting her against his body.

Hermione moaned with need as she felt his hard member pressed against her core through the thick folds of her dress. She undulated against him, desperate for friction as he shoved the generous fabric of her gown up to her waist, his slacks already trailing down his thighs. She gasped as she felt him at her entrance.

"You're mine," he growled against her lips, biting down and staking claim.

"I'm yours," she gasped, gripping his now shining blonde hair.

"I love you more than he ever will."

 _"Yes."_ Her head fell back as he stretched her, his groan matching hers as they united. He moved inside her, wrenching cries from her lips that echoed around the room that only hours before had served as her dressing room as she'd readied herself for her marriage to Ron. And now she celebrated her union with Draco as he pounded into her, his fingers clenching her tightly, his face strained with pain and pleasure.

"Oh, _gods,_ Draco," she moaned as he drove into her, her body flooding with heat. "I'm yours. I'm yours."

"Only mine," he ground out, his eyes flashing. She stilled him.

"No," she said, smoothing the hair which fell against his temple. "I'll never be only yours, just as you'll never be only mine. But that doesn't make this any less real; it doesn't make _us_ any less real. It's real, Draco, and it's ours. Only ours."

"No matter what may come," he conceded, rubbing his face against her hand before leaning down to drown her in her in his kisses, moving against her once more and thrusting her quickly towards the edge, their love flowing through her until she crashed through that incredible crest, dragging him with her.

They stayed pressed against the door, catching their breath.

"I never did ask," Draco panted, turning his head slightly to look at her, smirking. "What did you tell Weasley when he found out you weren't a virgin?"

Hermione groaned at the memory of their first time, how she'd stuttered nervously about some Muggle boy she'd spent a summer with going into their sixth year. He'd been disappointed but she'd been able to soothe him with her now expert mouth, loving the shocked expression on his face as she'd pleasured him. When she regaled Draco with this tale he burst out laughing.

"Oh, I would have paid a hundred galleons to see the look on his face," he chortled. "Poor bloke never knew what was coming to him. The sexual goddess that is the Gryffindor bookworm!"

She grinned. "Well, I _have_ had a lot of practice," she said sultrily and he grinned.

"That, my dear," he said, his teeth on her neck. "You most certainly have. And there is ever more to come."

She shivered in anticipation as he took her lips once more. She fingered the two rings on her left hand and smiled in unparalleled bliss. Her two loves were now bound to her forever. She should feel terrible about the fact that Draco was even now growing hard again inside her on her wedding night with Ron, but she'd made herself suffer over her infidelity enough. She'd been through more pain in her young life than most would ever understand, so now she would grasp her happiness with both hands, with both loves, and take them both greedily.

"So, my dear Mrs. Weasley," Draco murmured as his hips began again. "Do you have plans this evening?"

Hermione threw her head back and laughed.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Mmm, Draco," she groaned, pressing back against the pile of pillows he'd propped her against in their bed. "That feels so good."

His grey eyes sparkled as he smiled. "Astoria says I have hands like gold."

"She's not wrong," Hermione said, her eyes closing against the wonderful sensation of Draco's lithe thumbs pressing against the arch of her swollen foot. Gazing over her hugely rounded belly she grinned at her beautiful blonde lover. "She should be due any day now."

He nodded. "She's out with her mother now grabbing a few last minute things. Although I don't know what else the brat could possibly need, the Manor is positively bursting with baby crap."

Hermione grinned, knowing her own nursery was similarly packed. "She's just excited. You still think it's a boy?"

Draco puffed up his chest. "Of course it is! And his name will be Scorpius and he'll be just as handsome as his father."

Hermione snorted. "Hopefully a little less arrogant."

Draco smirked. "Not likely."

They laughed and Hermione enjoyed the doting as she looked around their room which was now filled with trinkets from their adventures, pictures hanging on the walls of their memories together. She'd always felt such comfort between these walls, every worry of life seeming to fall away as soon as she was here and it was just she and Draco.

They sat in comfortable silence until Hermione cried out in pain, gripping her belly.

"Shit, _shit,_ what do I do, is it coming?" Draco stammered, flying to his feet.

"No," Hermione squeezed out, gripping the blankets below her as she moaned in pain. "Not-real-labor."

Draco knelt beside her, hands flying to her hair and stomach as she breathed through the Braxton-Hicks contractions, gasping as the pain settled.

Draco brushed back her messy hair as she willed herself to be calm. She knew the false labor was preparing her body for birth, but she worried that they'd begun so early. She still had nearly a month to go…

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, reading her expression like a book. She tried to ease her features and smiled at him.

"Nothing, just enjoying the wonderful sensations of having a child growing inside me," she joked. Draco's hands ran over her nearly bursting stomach, his expression saddening as it frequently did when he looked at her bump.

"And you still don't know?" he asked for the hundredth time.

She shook her head sadly. "There's no way I _could_ know. We'll just have to wait."

Hermione felt a twinge of guilt as her hands joined Draco's over her growing child. She had no clue whether the baby was Draco's or Ron's. She and Ron had been trying for nearly a year, and Hermione had been careless, not thinking to use Contraceptive Charms during her dalliances with Draco. She remembered two entirely different conversations with her men when she'd found out she'd conceived; the joy in Ron's face as he'd whooped and spun her around their living room and the one of fear that had crossed Draco's features when she explained that it could very possibly be his as the timeline led to a week when she'd had both men within days of each other.

But Draco had sworn, no matter who the father was, that he'd always be there for them both. He'd just joyously announced Astoria's condition to her several weeks before and she was floored by his excitement at the prospect of fatherhood.

Hermione cringed as another harsh cramp gripped her body and Draco sat her up, rubbing small circles on her back, talking her through the pain.

And then she was screaming, the sensation of her stomach ripping in half consuming her. Hermione reached for Draco's hand and squeezed it while he stammered nervously.

"Something's-not right," Hermione gasped anxiously. She shouldn't be in this much pain, not this soon. Draco cursed.

"Dammit, Hermione, we need to get you to St. Mungo's," he said, his voice shaking. Hermione looked down to where his gaze was and screeched in terror.

Blood pooled between her legs and onto their white comforter, her hands shaking as she gripped her stomach in fear.

"The baby, the baby-"

"Is going to be fine," Draco said sternly, his face taut. "We're going to get you to the hospital and everything is going to be fine."

"Draco, you can't-"

"I'm not leaving your side," he growled fiercely. "Lay back, focus on your breathing, you need to stay calm for the child."

Hermione knew he was right and allowed him to ease her back against the pillows, but fear gripped her and tears flooded her eyes. She couldn't lose the baby, she couldn't, she didn't think she'd survive…

 _Please be alright,_ she begged the child in her womb, gripping her stomach tight. _Please..._

Draco ran to the dresser, grabbing his wand and transfiguring his features, giving himself a black beard and shaggy black hair, conjuring square glasses and shoving them on his face, grabbing clothing from their wardrobe that he only wore with her and yanking them on, shrugging into a long brown coat before grabbing Hermione's.

She cried out in agony as Draco helped her up; let him take her weight as he tugged her jacket on. Then he dipped down and lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing despite the twenty pounds she'd put on since her conception.

"Everything is going to be alright, I've got you," he murmured against her temple. "I've got you both."

He turned on the spot and with a _crack!_ landed in the bustling entrance of St. Mungo's.

"Help!" he cried out, more scared than she'd ever heard him. She sobbed in pain and fear as he hurried through the throng of people towards the welcoming desk, ignoring people's protests as he shoved his way to the front of the line, clutching Hermione tightly.

"She needs a Healer _now!"_ he shouted at a harassed looking witch behind the desk. "The baby is coming early!"

The witch took one look at the blood still streaming down Hermione's legs and waved her wand. "They'll be down immediately, please take her down the hallway on the left, they'll meet you there."

Without even a word of thanks Draco turned and ran back through the crowds, cursing as Hermione screamed again in pain, digging her face into his neck as it ripped through her.

"You're going to be fine, you're both going to be fine, just hang on," he chanted as people cleared a path for the two of them.

Two Healers met them with a floating gurney which Draco eased her down onto while she sobbed in terror, clutching at her child.

"How far along is she?" a Healer asked, looking up at Draco as Hermione cried out again.

"Just over eight months," Draco replied instantly, grabbing for her hand as she writhed in pain.

"Are you the father?" the Healer asked as the other turned the gurney with a flick of his wrist, waving his wand over her, running diagnostics.

"I-er, no, I-I'm-"

"He found me-in Diagon Alley," Hermione panted through clenched teeth. "I collapsed-and he-helped me."

"How very kind of you," she smiled, not commenting on why a complete stranger would know how far along she was in her pregnancy. "But I'm afraid it's family only beyond this point. You're welcome to wait-"

"I'm not leaving her-"

"I'm sorry, sir, it's regulation-"

 _"NO!"_

Hermione placed her hand on his arm. "I'll be alright," she told him before he could cause a scene. "Thank you so much for your assistance."

Draco's jaw clenched, his hand quaking in hers. Finally he nodded, dropped a kiss on her knuckles, wishing her well, and strode back down the hall.

"Who can we call for you?"

XXXXXXXXXX

 _He's gone._

Hermione tapped the coin sitting on the bed next to her and sent the message, turning back to the softly breathing infant curled on her chest. She smiled happily as her heart swelled with love.

She heard his c _rack!_ of Apparation immediately in the hall and her bedroom door eased open quietly.

Draco slipped into the room she shared with Ron. His eyes said a thousand words as he gazed at the mother and child before him. Love, relief, longing, disappointment.

He wiped the last emotion from his face and strode to the pair, crouching beside them. He took a moment to take her lips, sighing quietly, leaning his forehead against hers. "Thank the gods," he whispered and she gripped his neck, knowing how scared he must have been for her having to leave her as he had. She kissed him softly and he turned to her daughter.

He reached out one quivering hand to the sleeping babe on her chest, stroking her plump cheek with the back of his index finger.

"She's beautiful," he whispered. "What did you name her?"

"Rose."

Draco smiled, his thumb grazing the back of the infant's hand which was nestled against her cheek. "Rose. It's perfect." Hermione's heart caught as his fingers moved to the flaming red hair falling over her forehead. "She's his?"

Not trusting her voice, Hermione lifted her wand, waving it over the child on her chest.

The ginger hair faded to its original silver and Draco let out a small, strangled sound. He caught her eye and she felt tears welling at the pained expression there.

"She's mine?" he choked out and she nodded, a sob wrenched from her chest as he grinned. He leaned forward and caught her lips before turning back to his daughter. "May I?"

At her nod Draco carefully lifted the tiny girl into his hands, cradling her against his chest as she stirred before drifting back to sleep. He looked down at the baby, his eyes so full of love that Hermione fell for him even more.

"Rose. My sweet Rose," he murmured, stoking her cheek once more and dropping a kiss on her head, his lips lingering as his eyes closed, branding the moment into his memory.

Hermione swiped at the tears on her cheek, remembering how terrified and yet blissfully pleased she'd been when she'd seen the silver hair emerging from her straining body. She'd managed a hurried wandless spell, changing the blonde locks orange before anyone noticed. Ron had been too preoccupied coaching Hermione through the difficult delivery to notice the child was emerging and the Healer had turned to grab more towels. By the time Ron had looked down and the Healer had turned back she'd been a Weasley.

Bu now she looked at the perfect child she'd made with Draco as she really was. Her platinum hair shined against her mother's olive skin. She'd been born after thirty-eight agonizing hours, every moment of which Hermione had been terrified she'd lose her. They'd tried to stall the delivery, but her daughter had been insistent and she'd emerged pink and screaming, tiny, the tiniest thing she'd ever seen, but absolutely perfect. They'd had to stay for several days for Hermione to heal from the extensive blood loss she'd suffered and for the Healers to give Rose potions to assist her premature organs. By the time they'd arrived home both mother and child were perfectly healthy.

Ron was beside himself with happiness, taking to fatherhood swiftly, barely putting the little girl down. He'd been in tears when he'd first arrived at the hospital with Harry and now he all-but refused to let his girls out of his sight.

Hermione had finally gotten him to leave, begging him to run to the store for a ridiculous list of items they already had which she'd hidden in the back of their hallway closet. It had been nearly a week and her coin had been burning endlessly in desperation to see her and the child.

Hermione hummed in happiness at the image of father and child together. Draco was murmuring softly in his daughter's tiny ear, playing with her little fingers, his eyes swollen with emotion.

He looked up, feeling her eyes on him. "Will you tell her? When she's older?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "No. No, I'll hide her hair with a Permanent Concealment Charm I came across in case it worked out this way."

He nodded, swallowing. "You know, Scorpius was born the same day as Rose."

Hermione started. "You didn't tell me. You have a son."

He smiled. "He looks just like Rosie."

Hermione's heart clenched at what she knew she had to do.

"This will be the last time," she said quietly, her heart breaking at his reaction. He stilled his rocking, his breath catching, his grip tightening, a tear sliding down his face as he nodded. It pained her to take his child away from him, but she couldn't torture the two by letting them grow close until Rose got old enough to recognize his face and destroy their secret. It was best to sever the tie immediately. Rose was Ron's child now. It was the way it had to be.

Placing one last, long kiss on her soft head, Draco lay the infant back on Hermione's chest where she nuzzled and cooed. Draco swiped at the tears in his eyes and lay beside Hermione on her marriage bed, scooping them both into his chest.

"I'll always love her," he murmured against Hermione's temple. "As I'll always love you."

Hermione leaned her head against his chest and enjoyed this single moment of having her baby and her father together in her arms. When Draco left, Rosie would be Ron's in every way but one, a secret she would take with her to the grave.

XXXXXXXX

Hermione sucked in a difficult breath and turned to the aged face of her daughter. "Rose, dear, could you go Flourish and Blotts for me? They released a new edition of Hogwarts: A History last week that I'd like to read."

Rose looked hesitant to leave but finally nodded, squeezing her mother's wrinkled hand before rising. "Of course. Do you need anything before I leave?"

"No, I'm fine. I love you," she said, straining to hold back the tears that beckoned knowing this would be the last time she saw her daughter's beautiful face.

"I love you, too," she replied, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back soon."

The moment she closed the door behind her, Hermione reached her hand beneath her and grabbed the coin that rested against her hip, tapping out the words with her wand.

 _It's time._

He was there as soon as the words disappeared, leaning heavily against her bedpost.

His blonde hair had turned white, his flawless skin was now heavily lined and lightly spotted with age. His hands trembled as he gazed down at her.

"No," he breathed, tears coming to his beautiful eyes, the only part of him that still looked exactly the same as the first time she'd met him. "Don't leave me, not yet. Please..."

"Come here," she bade, lifting her hand towards him with difficulty. She could feel her death lingering just before her, her body heavy with it.

Draco ambled to her, his gait unsteady as it had been for the last twenty years. He took her lined hand and brought it to his mouth as he always did.

"I can't," he choked out on a sob, clutching her hand tightly as if this could keep her here and she saddened at the site, wishing she could ease his pain. But her time had come, she could linger no longer.

"Lay with me."

He limped to the other side of the bed, getting heavily into it as Hermione recalled the days when he used to toss her on the bed and pounce atop her. It had been many years since they'd been able to manage such a feat.

He drew her into his arms and she curled against him as she had hundreds of times over the years. He'd held her in sadness, in happiness, in grief, in love. They'd come together through deaths and births, through promotions and graduations. The years had brought myriad changes and challenges, and through it all, they'd held strong.

"I love you, Draco," she said, leaning up for a last kiss. He cupped her cheek and pressed his lips against hers tenderly, his tears coursing silently.

"I love you too, Hermione."

She laid her heavy head back against his chest, looking happily at the two rings nestled on her hand still, and was comforted by the sound of his heart. She wasn't afraid to die; she'd lived many long, happy years. Now, it was time to rest.

But she worried over leaving Draco. Astoria had died young, leaving a hole in his heart. Hermione had filled it as best she could and urged him to find another wife, but he had shook the idea off, claiming her love was all he'd ever need. He had his work and Scorpius to keep him busy when she was gone.

Hermione remembered the pain of losing Ron several years ago. But Draco had held her through that too.

Their lives had been so full of adventure and love. They'd traveled the world together; tried everything from scuba diving to carpet flying to one very embarrassing one-on-one Quidditch match. They danced beneath the stars and kissed in the rain. They had romantic dinners boasting about their beautiful children and heated fights that left more than one bruise. Though their secret was at times seemingly impossible, they'd loved each other through it.

And now Hermione embraced the end of her wonderful life in the arms of her dragon.

"I'll find you," he murmured against her forehead. "Wherever you go, I'll find you. We'll be together again soon. Never doubt me."

"I never have."

"I promised you I would always be with you. I intend to keep that promise. No matter what may come."

"No matter."

Hermione closed her eyes as he kissed her head one last time and she smiled, looking forward to their next adventure.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

XOXO

RynStar15


End file.
